MatchMaker
by forgiving
Summary: Harry's dying. More aware of the time he has left and the world around him he notices plenty of his friend, old and new, dancing around each other. He is determined that before he dies he will set them up. Hogwarts students, past and present, have no idea what's about to hit them. In the prologue, the couples are listed at the top. The ones in bold are the ones Harry sets up.
1. Prologue- Part One

Full summary: Harry's been diagnosed with a terminal illness. More aware of the time he has left and the world around him he notices plenty of his friend, old and new, dancing around each other. He is determined that before he dies he will set them up. Hogwarts students, past and present, have no idea what's about to hit them.

I'm not going to put character death because haven't decided yet. I think I will leave that up to you. Review me with your choice of weather Harry dies or first four books happened exactly and most of OotF happened with difference at the end. But HBP and DH never happened.

Couples: HG/RW, SB/RL, SS/DM, NL/LL, GW/BZ, OW/AG, LJ/KB, BW/OC, CW/OC, PW/PC, GW/FW, SF/JF-F, DT/HA, PP/TB, TN/SB

The prologue is in three parts. First is chapter on from PS. The second is six years later, when Harry gets diagnosed with cystic fibrosis. He actually has the magic version which means he has a few different symptoms. In other words this was the closes terminal, genetic disease to what I wanted so I just edited it slightly to fit. The last part of the prologue is when Harry gets picked up by Hagrid and then when he tells Madame Pomfrey, professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore about his illness.

**Prologue- part one**

Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

Mr Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moustache. Mrs Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbours. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.

The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found about the Potters.

Mrs Potter was Mrs Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact Mrs Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be. The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbours would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that.

When Mr and Mrs Dursley woke up on the dull, grey Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.

None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window.

At half past eight, Mr Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls. "Little tyke," chortled Mr Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.

It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar a cat reading a map. For a second, Mr Dursley didn't realize what he had seen then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive no, looking at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs. Mr Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.

But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks.

Mr Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes- the get-ups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdoes standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt these people were obviously collecting for something… yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills.

Mr Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at night-time. Mr Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery.

He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.

"The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard-"

"-Yes, their son, Harry-"

Mr Dursley stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.

He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialling his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his moustache, thinking… no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew was called Harry. He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold. There was no point in worrying Mrs Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her if he'd had a sister like that… but all the same, those people in cloaks…

He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon, and when he left the building at five o´clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door. "Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passer-by stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"

And the old man hugged Mr Dursley around the middle and walked off.

Mr Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.

As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw and it didn't improve his mood was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.

"Shoo!" said Mr Dursley loudly.

The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behaviour? Mr Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.

Mrs Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Shan't!"). Mr Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:

"And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"

"Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early- it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."

Mr Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters…

Mrs Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Err- Petunia, dear- you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"

As he had expected, Mrs Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.

"No," she said sharply. "Why?"

"Funny stuff on the news," Mr Dursley mumbled. "Owls… shooting stars… and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today…"

"So?" snapped Mrs Dursley.

"Well, I just thought… maybe… it was something to do with… you know… her crowd."

Mrs Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son he'd be about Dudley´s age now, wouldn't he?"

"I suppose so," said Mrs Dursley stiffly.

"What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?"

"Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."

"Oh, yes," said Mr Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."

He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something.

Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did… if it got out that they were related to a pair of well, he didn't think he could bear it.

The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind… He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on. He yawned and turned over it couldn't affect them…

How very wrong he was.

Mr Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat´s tail twitched and it's eyes narrowed.

Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."'

He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be silver lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him.

If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"My dear professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passes a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.

"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursley's dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls… shooting stars… Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumours."

She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn´t, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A what?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this You-Know-Who nonsense for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying You-Know-Who. I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

"I know you haven't." said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort was frightened of."

"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too well noble to use them."

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said "The owls are nothing next to the rumours that are flying around. You know what they're saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.

"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow? He went to find the Potters. The rumour is that Lily and James Potter are- are that they're dead."

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.

"Lily and James… I can't believe it… I didn't want to believe it… Oh, Albus…"

Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know… I know…" he said heavily.

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke and that's why he's gone."

Dumbledore nodded glumly.

"It's- it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done… all the people he's killed… he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding… of all the things to stop him… but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"

"We can only guess." Said Dumbledore. "We may never know."

Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."

"You don't mean you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"

"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous a legend I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future there will be books written about Harry every child in our world will know his name!"

"Exactly." Said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes- yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.

"Hagrid's bringing him."

"You think it wise to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to- what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

"Is that where-?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well give him here, Hagrid, we'd better get this over with."

Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursley's house.

"Could I could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shhh! Hissed Professor McGonagall, "You'll wake the Muggles."

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it Lily an' James dead an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles"

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of is cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two.

For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.

"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley… He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices "To Harry Potter the boy who lived."


	2. Prologue- Part Two

The first four books happened exactly and most of OotF happened with difference at the end. But HBP and DH never happened.

Main Couples: **HG/RW, SB/RL, SS/DM,** NL/LL, **GW/BZ,** OW/AG, LJ/KB, BW/OC, CW/OC, PW/PC, GW/FW, **SF/JF-F, DT/HA, PP/TB, TN/SB**

**A/N: So this is part two, when Harry gets diagnosed. It starts off the same as the original story then turns slowly into mine.**

Prologue- part two

Nearly five years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys´ front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed.

Five years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-coloured bonnets but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too.

Yet Harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. His aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day.

"Up! Get up! Now!"

Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again.

"Up!" she screeched. Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it.

He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before.

His aunt was back outside the door.

"Are you up yet?" she demanded.

"Nearly," said Harry.

"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn. "

Harry groaned, which turned into a hacking cough.

"What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door.

"Nothing, nothing…"

Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept.

When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath a load of present that Harry knew were for his cousin to "Reward him for his excellent school grades and good behaviour." It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley's favourite punching bag was Harry, but he couldn't often catch him. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast.

Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it as long as he could remember, and the first question he could ever remember asking his aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it.

"In the car crash when your parents died," she said. "And don't ask questions."

_Don't ask questions_ - that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.

Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon.

"Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting.

About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way- all over the place.

Harry was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel- Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.

Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell. "twenty-five," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's less than my birthday."

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge´s present, see, it's here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy."

"All right, twenty-six then," said Dudley, going red in the face. Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over.

Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right?"

Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work.

Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have twenty… twenty …"

"Twenty-eight, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.

"Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."

Uncle Vernon chuckled.

"Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. "Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.

At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.

"That was the doctor's surgery," she said. "They've got his," She jerked her head in Harry´s direction, "test results back. They told me that they need to see us as soon as possible. I made an appointment for this afternoon."

Dudley's mouth fell open in horror and Harry's heart gave a leap. Harry had been sick almost constantly for three months now. It had started nearly a year ago actually, with him having on and off chest infections. He was persistent coughing and wheezing and usually coughed up mucus. The first doctor, after his sixth visit in a year last month, had decided to do some tests.

Now the tests had come back he was both nervous and relieved. Nervous because of how quickly they had to see the results and relieved because he would, hopefully, find out what was wrong.

"Why would they want to talk to us so urgently?" asked Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he´d planned this.

"Don't know. We'll find out later."

"More importantly, what are we going to do about today? I don't want to ruin Dudley's day. We had it all planed out."

"We could phone Marge and she could take him," Uncle Vernon suggested.

"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy."

The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn't there or rather, as thought he was something very nasty that couldn´t understand them, like a slug.

"What about what's –her-name, your friend Yvonne?"

"On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.

"I suppose you could take him while I and Dudley split off for afternoon tea, then dump him back at Mrs Figg's and join us afterward."

"I suppose I'll have to." Aunt Petunia looked as though she´d just swallowed a lemon.

Dudley began to cry loudly. "Dinky Duddydums, don't cry. Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.

"I… don't… want… you… t-t-to go… w-with him!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "He always sp-spoils everything!"

"I'm sorry, Dinky Duddydums, if there was any way to get out of it I would."

After ten minutes, a lot of tears and Aunt Petunia reassuring Dudley, things finely quietened down and Harry was rushed over to Mrs Figg's house.

A few hours later Harry was waiting in the doctors surgery waiting room, enviously watching some other children played in the play area. Aunt Petunia had forbidden him from going and joining in. They were just about to start a new game when Harry's name was called and Aunt Petunia pulled him from the room.

Doctor Frank was a nice doctor, who always gave Harry a sweet and a smile whenever he saw him. Now though he was not smiling. He looked grave as he asked them to sit. "Mrs Dursley, your son's-"

"Nephew," his Aunt corrected. "And can we make this quick, I had plans today."

"Your nephew's results came back positive on two counts," the man continued. "The first count was for a developing virus than can be taken care of with a simple vaccine."

"That's good," his Aunt cut in. "Just give him the vaccine, then we can be gone." She turned to Harry. "Role up your sleeve so he can give you the injection." Harry did so and Doctor Frank motioned for his nurse to get the vaccine.

"I'm afraid it will not be that simple. Harry also test positive for cystic fibrosis." Seeing her confused he went on to explain about the decease and what it entailed. "It will also shorten his life span. He would be lucky to reach the age of 30," he concluded.

"Will this treatment cost much? Is there any way to get rid of it?" Petunia fired off question after question, only waiting long enough for the doctor to answer before asking another. Meanwhile, the nurse had come in and vaccinated Harry and he sat watching the proceedings through curios eyes.

Finally, when his Aunt had exhausted her questions, he asked, "What wrong with me, Mr Frank?"

"Your very ill, Harry," he explained, kneeling down to look him in the eye. "You have some horrid gunk in your lungs, which are here" he pointed to Harry's chest "and you use them to breathe. This gunk makes it hard to breathe and give you coughs a lot. It also means you can ill more easily and that you will have to see a special doctor once a week to make you feel better. He will explain it better than me, okay?" Harry nodded. Doctor Frank turned to his Aunt and gave her some pieces of paper before he they left.

Just as he was leaving the building he felt his chest tighten and began to cough bringing up horrid gunk. His Aunt watched this without comment before pulling him up and along to the house, all the while muttering about no good freaks who couldn't even use their freakiness to stay healthy.

* * *

It was nearly a month later when they actually found the time or the effort to take Harry to see the specialist. This time his uncle dropped them off at a big, white building with a big sign announcing the name of the hospital, Redhill. His Aunt dragged him inside and along endless corridors before she pushed him down into a chair, told him if he moved an inch she would flay him alive and went to give his name to the receptionist.

Looking around Harry noticed there where several other children but a lot more grown-ups. A small wail caught his attention and he turned to see a small room with the door open. Shifting a little, he saw a woman trying to calm a small baby while a little girl watched. He was about to look away when the girl turned and spotted him watching. She smiled, which grew wider when he returned the smile.

His aunt returned just then and he switched his focus to her as she pulled him off the chair and told him to follow her. He looked back in time to see the small girl wave and happily waved back. He turned around and scuttled after his Aunt as she walked down the corridor.

She stopped outside a black door with the number 11 in bold above. "Get in!" she barked as she opened the door. Harry scampered inside. "Sit," she pointed to a chair against the wall as she walked in. the doctor, a pretty, black haired, black skinned woman, looked shocked at the way she addressed him but soon recovered her composure. Aunt petunia sat in the chair opposite her.

"Mr Potter, Mrs Potter-" she began, only to be cut off by petunia's clipped voice.

"Mrs Dursley," she corrected. Seeing the doctor's blank look, she explained, "My name is Mrs Dursley. The boy is my nephew; his parents died and left him in my care. Horrid boy," she added as an afterthought.

"Mrs Dursley," she corrected, and then seemed to forget that Harry was there. "My name is doctor Riddlesonge. I'm to be Mr Potter's paediatrician specialist on his case. I have to admit, however, that it is unique. The test came back positive, leading to an automatic referral, but barley any of his symptoms match those of cystic fibrosis. I would like to run the test again and in the meantime start his treatment."

What followed was one of the most boring conversations Harry had ever listened to and most of the language went way over his head. Within minutes he was bored and the conversation was over an hour long before the doctor seemed to remember he was there.

"Mr Potter, can I call you Harry?" she asked. When Harry nodded she continued to say, "Harry, did Doctor Frank explain what's wrong with you?" again he shook his head. "You have a condition called cystic fibrosis. That means that you have all this horrible gunk in you lung's called mucus that builds up, making it hard for you to breath. You have to take medicine to keep it from building up too much and come in to the hospital from time to time to have it taken away. Do you understand?" he nodded. A strange look graced her face and she asked, "Harry, can you talk?"

She watched him glance at his Aunt before whispering, "Yes, but I'm not allowed to talk unless Aunt Petunia say's I can."

Doctor Riddlesonge nodded to show she understood. "Do you have any questions, Harry?"

With another glance at his Aunt he asked, fumbling over the words, "How did I get cystrick fibbrosis?"

"Do you know what genetic disorders are?"

"He's six and a half, how's he supposed to know that?" his Aunt snapped.

"Okay, every person is made up of lots of little things called cells. Inside every cell of each living thing are sets of instructions called genes. The genes provide the instructions on what is the plant or animal, what it looks like, how it is to survive, and how it will interact with its surrounding environment. The genes are strung together in long stands of material called DNA and these long strands are called chromosomes. Most living things have pairs of chromosomes, one from each parent.

"In your case, Harry, each of your parents gave you a bed gene that didn't do what it was supposed to. Neither of your parents needs to have the gene, although if you look back in both family trees you will find that they have had a blood relative with the disorder. This creates the wrong gene and passes it on until a matching gene is introduced in the baby. They could have four kids, however, and odds are that only one of them would have the decease. We say this is a one in four chance of a child who's both parents carry the gene of getting the disease. Okay? Do you understand?"

Harry nodded, smiling. "If that is all, we must be going. I have other appointments and my own son to get home to," his Aunt interrupted.

"Yes, of course, sorry," Doctor Riddlesonge said, flustered. "I just need a nurse to take a test sample and to write out Harry's prescriptions, then you can go." She picked up the phone on the desk next to her and without dialling said, "Could you send in nurse D'Lacey with the test kit please? Thank you." She replaced the receiver and turned her chair into the desk. She pulled out several green pieces of paper and began to write on each one. A moment later and a nice looking woman with blue highlighted hair came in.

Harry stared. "Your hair," he blurted, causing his Aunt's lips to thin and the nurse to laugh.

"Don't worry dearie, it's meant to look like this. I coloured it this colour. Now then open your shirt for me so I can get some sweat on this pad." Harry did so and she swiped a cotton pad across his chest. "All done!" she chirped, placing the pad into a container. She then tottered out of the room at the same time as Doctor Riddlesonge turned around and handed his Aunt the papers she had been writing on.

"These need to be administered three times a day," she said, pointing to two pieces. "This one needs to be administered once a month and this one once every fortnight. The packets will contain further instructions. I'll see you in two months, Mrs Dursley, Harry."


	3. Prologue- Part Three

The first four books happened exactly and most of OotF happened with difference at the end. But HBP and DH never happened.

Main Couples: **HG/RW**, **SB/RL**, **SS/DM**, NL/LL, **GW/BZ**, OW/AG, LJ/KB, BW/OC, CW/OC, PW/PC, GW/FW, **SF/JF-F**, **DT/HA**, **PP/TB**, **TN/SB**

This is part three, where Harry tells the teachers about his illness. Watch out for the twist though.

Prologue- part three

Harry listened carefully to the headmaster as he introduced each teacher and made a mental note to see madam Pomfrey to discuss his cystic fibrosis. He knew that the headmaster and his head of house, professor McGonagall, he thought, as the headmaster introduced her needed to know to.

Harry listened to the headmaster announce that the forbidden forest was forbidden in silence and not to go to the first floor in silence before they were all sent to bed. The Gryffindor prefect, Ron's Brother Percy, led them to the tower and showed them the dorms.

* * *

Harry hesitated as he packed away, the rest of the class filling out of the classroom. His first impression on his head of house hadn't been good but he still needed to talk to her. Finally, waving Ron on to his next class, he approached the professor's desk, where she sat head down marking a paper. "Professor?" he said.

She looked up from her marking and said sharply "Off to your next class, Mr Potter."

"Professor, I need to talk to you, the Headmaster and Madame Pomfrey. I-"

"Why the matron, Mr Potter? Surely you have not injured yourself already?"

"No, Professor. I have an illness that I take medication for and-"

She held up her hand, peering at him over her glasses. "You look fine to me, Mr Potter. I will, however, arrange a meeting with the staff for you to explain. I will send word to you when." Taking that as a dismissal, Harry turned and begun to walk towards the door. "Just a minute, Mr Potter, you will need a note for your next lesson."

"Thank you, Professor," he said as he left. He didn't see her worried gaze aimed at his back.

* * *

It was Friday by the time he heard from Professor McGonagall and Harry was feeling the effects. He was beginning to have coughing fit and always felt tight-chested. His dizzy spells were back and he was throwing up phlegm. All in all he was glad when word came on Friday that he was to go to the hospital wing the next morning.

He was surprised to find all of the teachers there when he arrived and hesitantly walked in to the room. "On the bed Mr Potter, I'll examine you after, while you're here," a woman he recognised as Madame Pomfrey said. He moved over to the nearby bed and scrambled up till he was sitting at the top, leaning on the cushions. The matron motioned for him to start talking.

"When I was younger, I always got ill," he began. "I had bad chest infections all the time and would cough up mucus, badly, and no medicine would ever work to make me better. Then when I was five, I began to have dizzy spells and get really short of breath. They thought I had asthma but my chest never felt tight. So when I was six my aunt finally took me to the doctors and they did a load of tests. The tests kept coming back negative. The doctor decided, going on instinct, to try one last test. It came back positive. My specialist was a bit confused because my symptoms barley matched. She re-ran the test and again it came back positive for cystic fibrosis again. Only my aunt didn't give me my medicines when I came here and I need to have a special treatment to get the liquid out of my lungs. And you needed to know anyway."

By the end of his speech, Harry was looking at the quilt in embarrassment. He peeked up through his lashes. A few of the teachers looked shocked. Madame Pomfrey looked thoughtful and the headmaster didn't seem surprised. Snape, however, seemed angry. "Potter, you can't have cystic whatever. Neither of your parents had it and-"

"But neither of your parents needs to have it. They only need to carry the gene for it. Like I know on my mother's side my great-great-grandmother had cystic fibrosis but although none of her children inherited it, they still carried the gene. Somewhere in my father's line the gene was introduced and because both my parents carried the gene there was a one in four chance that any children they had would have the disease."

The teachers started at him for a few seconds, before Madame Pomfrey snapped out of it and moved over running her wand from his head to his toes. A piece of parchment flew appeared from nowhere and she read it through humming occasionally. "You said that the symptoms didn't match properly. Can you tell me them?"

"Well, I start to feel more weak and dizzy, along with short breathed, if I don't get rid of the mucus. If I miss a set of meds I start to get really bad stomach cramps, diarrhoea and heart burn until I take the next meds set. If I miss more than a few sets I will likely start to cough up blood mixed mucus. It's horrid."

The room was deathly quiet for a few seconds. Then professor Snape snorted disbelievingly.

Madame Pomfrey glared at him before addressing Harry. "I'm going to run a test, Mr potter. The symptoms you described are familiar." At Harry's confused look she explained. "I don't think you have this citrus fibros, Harry. In fact you can't because you are a wizard and wizards and witches can't get most muggle diseases and illnesses. I just hope that I am wrong." She muttered the last sentence to herself but the rest of the teachers still heard.

She began to wave her wand in a very long and integrant pattern. It took nearly five minutes to run the test and another half an hour for the results. During this time, Snape left, and Harry, feeling more comfortable, asked the teachers some questions about the work they did.

Suddenly there was a small pop and a piece of paper appeared in mid-air. Madame Pomfrey plucked it and read through. She grew pale before visibly stealing herself and sitting down at the edge of Harry's bed. "Harry, I'm afraid I was right. You have Humor Viscerum." A horrified gasp came from the females of the room, professor Flickwick squeaked and the Headmaster just stood in shock.

"Madame Pomfrey what is humour visairoma? From everyone's reactions, I'm guessing it's bad but what-"

"Do you know nothing about magical illnesses, Mr Potter?" the matron asked. Harry shock his head. "Humor Viscerum is what it translates as. Liquid of the organs. It means that you have fluid, mucus, in your internal organs. It starts in different organs depending on the person's lifestyle. I'm guessing that with you it started with your lungs. From the history you gave me, I think it then spread to your liver and stomach. According to this," she indicated the results in her hand, "it recently started to spread to you pancreas which creates important hormones and is underneath your stomach."

"What's so bad about that?"

"Harry," professor McGonagall said softly, "eventually it will spread to your heart. Most people don't live past their 20th birthday." Harry stared in shock. He felt numb. He didn´t hear the Headmaster begin to question Madame Pomfrey. He didn't notice Professor Snapes return. His only thought was, 'I'm going to die.'

It was the shouting that finally brought Harry back down to earth. "He's faking to get attention!" Snape roared.

"He can't be, Severus, this test is never wrong. You know that," Madame Pomfrey tried to argue. Harry sat there blinking at them, not really engaging what was being said, just that there was loads of noise.

Finally, someone noticed that Harry was silent and turned from the show in front of them, back to the bed. Professor Flickwick said his name but got no response. He moved forward to the end of the bed and look at the boy. He was thin, to thin, his mind registered. He was pale and his glasses show his normally responsive eyes to be blank. "Poopy!"

"WHAT?" she said, sounding angry. Turning towards the voice she was surprised to see Filius at the end of the bed. "Filius?" she asked more calmer. He just motioned to Harry and the medi-witch moved forward to see what was the mater. She gasped as she got a good look at him. "He's in shock," she murmured.

"What do we do?"

"Let it were of then deal with an emotional eleven year old," she said. She summoned a calming and sleeping draught and placed it on the bed side. She moved up to the top of the bed and lowered the still numb Harry down so he was laying down facing up. Then she turned to the still ranting Severus and barked, "silence! This is a hospital ward and if you can't be quiet while I deal with a patent then you can leave!"

Severus didn't seem deterred, if anything this seemed to make him madder. Only Filius noticed Harry blink and turn his head to see what was going on.

When it seemed that Severus was not going to calm down Albus pulled out his wand and stunned him. He then walked over to him and to everyone's shock announced "obliviate," while holding the wand to the man's head. Once done he called a house elf and told the creature to dispossite the potions master in bed dressed appropriately.

Once the man was gone he sighed. "Albus?" Minerva whispered.

"Poppy, you could I trouble you for a calming drought?" the medi-witch summoned one and handed it over. "Thank you. Now no one is to mention this to Severus. It had to be done he is to emotionally involved with this. Please." All of the staff nodded. Then they turned to look at Harry who seemed to be "waking" up. "It will only stress young Harry more to have Severus hanging over his head."

Again, everyone nodded. Then they watched as Harry came back to himself and began to cry, curling up into a ball. They watched as he cried for a while before Poppy gave him the calming and sleeping draughts and he slept. Later, plans were made with the help of Harry, the illness was explained in full and they watched a little boy grow up overnight.


	4. Chapter 1: Death Draws Nearer

**A/N before I start this chapter I just want to let you know that there is to be a pole on my profile. I am leaving the choice on whether Harry lives or dies at the end up to you. Also, while it is not a main pairing, there are going to be mentions of Harry/Weasley twins pairing and he will be paired up with them if he lives.**

**Over and out,**

**Forgiving**

* * *

Chapter 1- Death Draws Nearer

Only one pair was still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: he was laughing at her.

"Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.

The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest.

The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock. Sirius flew backwards and with a crack that echoed in the near silent room, his head connected with the side of the veil and slide to the ground. As Harry watched him waiting for any sign of movement a small puddle of blood wetted his hair and spread around his head.

Harry released Neville, though he was unaware of doing so. He was jumping down the steps again, pulling out his wand, as Dumbledore, too, turned towards the dais.

"SIRIUS!" he bellowed. "SIRIUS!"

"He can't wake up, Harry," said Lupin, his voice breaking as he struggled to contain Harry. "He can't wake up, because he's d -"

"HE-IS-NOT- DEAD!" roared Harry. "SIRIUS!"

There was movement going on around them, pointless bustling, the flashes of more spells. To Harry it was meaningless noise, the deflected curses flying past them did not matter, nothing mattered except that Lupin should stop pretending that Sirius-who was who was lying there about to wake up any minute and complain that he had a headache then rejoin the fight - was not going to wake up - was dead-

Lupin dragged Harry away from the dais. Harry still staring at Sirius now, was angry at Sirius now for keeping him waiting-

But some part of him realised, even as he fought to break free from Lupin, that Sirius had never kept him waiting before ... Sirius had risked everything, always, to see Harry to help him ... if Sirius was not waking up when Harry was yelling for him as though his life depended on it, the only possible explanation was that he could not... that he really was-

Dumbledore had most of the remaining Death Eaters grouped in the middle of the room, seemingly immobilised by invisible ropes; Mad-Eye Moody had crawled across the room to where Tonks lay, and was attempting to revive her; behind the dais there were still flashes of light, grunts and cries-Kingsley had run forward to continue Sirius's duel with Bellatrix.

"Harry?"

Neville had slid down the stone benches one by one to the place where Harry stood. Harry was no longer struggling against Lupin, who maintained a precautionary grip on his arm nevertheless.

"Harry ... I'b really sorry ..." said Neville. His legs were still dancing uncontrollably. "Was dad man-was Sirius Black a-a friend of yours?"

Harry nodded.

"Here," said Lupin quietly, and pointing his wand at Neville's legs he said, "Finite." The spell was lifted: Neville's legs fell back to the floor and remained still. Lupin's face was pale. "Let's-let's find the others. Where are they all, Neville?"

Lupin turned away from the archway as he spoke. It sounded as though every word was causing him pain.

"Dey're all back dere," said Neville. "A brain addacked Ron bud I dink he's all righd-and Herbione's unconscious, bud we could feel a bulse-"

There was a loud bang and a yell from behind the dais. Harry saw Kingsley hit the ground yelling in pain: Bellatrix Lestrange turned tail and ran as Dumbledore whipped around. He aimed a spell at her but she deflected it; she was halfway up the steps now -

"Harry-no!" cried Lupin, but Harry had already ripped his arm from Lupin's slackened grip.

"SHE KILLED SIRIUS!" bellowed Harry. "SHE KILLED HIM-I'LL KILL HER!"

And he was off, scrambling up the stone benches; people were shouting behind him but he did not care. The hem of Bellatrix's robes whipped out of sight ahead and they were back in the room where the brains were swimming...

She aimed a curse over her shoulder. The tank rose into the air and tipped. Harry was deluged in the foul-smelling potion within: the brains slipped and slid over him and began spinning their long coloured tentacles, but he shouted, 'Wingardium Leviosa!' and they flew off him up into the air. Slipping and sliding, he ran on towards the door; he leapt over Luna, who was groaning on the floor, past Ginny, who said, "Harry-what-?" past Ron, who giggled feebly, and Hermione, who was still unconscious. He wrenched open the door into the circular black hall and saw Bellatrix disappearing through a door on the other side of the room; beyond her was the corridor leading back to the lifts.

He ran, but she had slammed the door behind her and the walls were already rotating. Once more, he was surrounded by streaks of blue light from the whirling candelabra.

"Where's the exit?" he shouted desperately, as the wall rumbled to a halt again. "Where's the way out?"

The room seemed to have been waiting for him to ask. The door right behind him flew open and the corridor towards the lifts stretched ahead of him, torch-lit and empty. He ran...

He could hear a lift clattering ahead; he sprinted up the passageway, swung around the corner and slammed his fist on to the button to call a second lift. It jangled and banged lower and lower; the grilles slid open and Harry dashed inside, now hammering the button marked 'Atrium'. The doors slid shut and he was rising...

He forced his way out of the lift before the grilles were fully open and looked around. Bellatrix was almost at the telephone lift at the other end of the hall, but she looked back as he sprinted towards her and aimed another spell at him. He dodged behind the Fountain of Magical Brethren: the spell zoomed past him and hit the wrought-gold gates at the other end of the Atrium so that they rang like bells. There were no more footsteps. She had stopped running. He crouched behind the statues, listening.

"Come out, come out, little Harry!" she called in her mock baby voice, which echoed off the polished wooden floors. "What did you come after me for, then? I thought you were here to avenge my dear cousin!"

"I am!" shouted Harry, and a score of ghostly Harry's seemed to chorus I am! I am! I am! all around the room.

"Aaaaaah ... did you love him, little baby Potter?"

Hatred rose in Harry such as he had never known before; he flung himself out from behind the fountain and bellowed, "Crucio!"

Bellatrix screamed: the spell had knocked her off her feet, but she did not writhe and shriek with pain as Neville had-she was already back on her feet, breathless, no longer laughing. Harry dodged behind the golden fountain again. Her counter-spell hit the head of the handsome wizard, which was blown off and landed twenty feet away, gouging long scratches into the wooden floor.

"Never used an Unforgivable Curse before, have you, boy?" she yelled. She had abandoned her baby voice now. "You need to mean them, Potter! You need to really want to cause pain-to enjoy it-righteous anger won't hurt me for long-I'll show you how it is done, shall I? I'll give you a lesson-"

Harry was edging around the fountain on the other side when she screamed, "Crucio!" and he was forced to duck down again as the centaur's arm, holding its bow, span off and landed with a crash on the floor a short distance from the golden wizard's head.

"Potter, you cannot win against me!" she cried.

He could hear her moving to the right, trying to get a clear shot of him. He backed around the statue away from her, crouching behind the centaur's legs, his head level with the house-elf's.

"I was and am the Dark Lord's most loyal servant. I learned the Dark Arts from him, and I know spells of such power that you, pathetic little boy, can never hope to compete-"

"Stupefy!" yelled Harry. He had edged right around to where the goblin stood beaming up at the now headless wizard and taken aim at her back as she peered around the fountain. She reacted so fast he barely had time to duck.

"Protego!"

The jet of red light, his own Stunning Spell, bounced back at him. Harry scrambled back behind the fountain and one of the goblin's ears went flying across the room.

"Potter, I'm going to give you one chance!" shouted Bellatrix. "Give me the prophecy-roll it out towards me now-and I may spare your life!"

"Well, you're going to have to kill me, because it's gone!" Harry roared and, as he shouted it, pain seared across his forehead; his scar was on fire again, and he felt a surge of fury that was quite unconnected with his own rage. "And he knows!" said Harry, with a mad laugh to match Bellatrix's own. "Your dear old mate Voldemort knows it's gone! He's not going to be happy with you, is he?"

"What? What do you mean?" she cried, and for the first time there was fear in her voice.

"The prophecy smashed when I was trying to get Neville up the steps! What do you think Voldemort'll say about that, then?"

His scar seared and burned ... the pain of it was making his eyes stream...

"LIAR!" she shrieked, but he could hear the terror behind the anger now. "YOU'VE GOT IT, POTTER, AND YOU WILL GIVE IT TO ME! Accio prophecy! ACCIO PROPHECY!"

Harry laughed again because he knew it would incense her, the pain building in his head so badly he thought his skull might burst. He waved his empty hand from behind the one-eared goblin and withdrew it quickly as she sent another jet of green light flying at him.

"Nothing there!" he shouted. "Nothing to summon! It smashed and nobody heard what it said, tell your boss that!"

"No!" she screamed. "It isn't true, you're lying! MASTER, I TRIED, I TRIED-DO NOT PUNISH ME-"

"Don't waste your breath!" yelled Harry, his eyes screwed up against the pain in his scar, now more terrible than ever. "He can't hear you from here!"

"Can't I, Potter?" said a high, cold voice.

Harry opened his eyes.

Tall, thin and black-hooded, his terrible snakelike face white and gaunt, his scarlet, slit-pupilled eyes staring ... Lord Voldemort had appeared in the middle of the hall, his wand pointing at Harry who stood frozen, quite unable to move.

"So, you smashed my prophecy?" said Voldemort softly, staring at Harry with those pitiless red eyes. "No, Bella, he is not lying ... I see the truth looking at me from within his worthless mind ... months of preparation, months of effort ... and my Death Eaters have let Harry Potter thwart me again ..."

"Master, I am sorry, I knew not, I was fighting the Animagus Black!" sobbed Bellatrix, flinging herself down at Voldemort's feet as he paced slowly nearer. "Master, you should know-"

"Be quiet, Bella," said Voldemort dangerously. "I shall deal with you in a moment. Do you think I have entered the Ministry of Magic to hear your snivelling apologies?"

"But Master-he is here-he is below-"

Voldemort paid no attention.

"I have nothing more to say to you, Potter," he said quietly. "You have irked me too often, for too long. AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Harry had not even opened his mouth to resist; his mind was blank, his wand pointing uselessly at the floor.

But the headless golden statue of the wizard in the fountain had sprung alive, leaping from its plinth to land with a crash on the floor between Harry and Voldemort. The spell merely glanced off its chest as the statue flung out its arms to protect Harry.

"What-?" cried Voldemort, staring around. And then he breathed, "Dumbledore!"

Harry looked behind him, his heart pounding. Dumbledore was standing in front of the golden gates.

Voldemort raised his wand and another jet of green light streaked at Dumbledore, who turned and was gone in a whirling of his cloak. Next second, he had reappeared behind Voldemort and waved his wand towards the remnants of the fountain. The other statues sprang to life. The statue of the witch ran at Bellatrix, who screamed and sent spells streaming uselessly off its chest, before it dived at her, pinning her to the floor. Meanwhile, the goblin and the house-elf scuttled towards the fireplaces set along the wall and the one-armed centaur galloped at Voldemort, who vanished and reappeared beside the pool. The headless statue thrust Harry backwards, away from the fight, as Dumbledore advanced on Voldemort and the golden centaur cantered around them both.

"It was foolish to come here tonight, Tom," said Dumbledore calmly. "The Aurors are on their way-"

"By which time I shall be gone, and you will be dead!" spat Voldemort. He sent another killing curse at Dumbledore but missed, instead hitting the security guard's desk, which burst into flame.

Dumbledore flicked his own wand: the force of the spell that emanated from it was such that Harry, though shielded by his golden guard, felt his hair stand on end as it passed and this time Voldemort was forced to conjure a shining silver shield out of thin air to deflect it. The spell, whatever it was, caused no visible damage to the shield, though a deep, gong-like note reverberated from it-an oddly chilling sound.

"You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore?" called Voldemort, his scarlet eyes narrowed over the top of the shield. "Above such brutality, are you?"

"We both know that there are other ways of destroying a man, Tom," Dumbledore said calmly, continuing to walk towards Voldemort as though he had not a fear in the world, as though nothing had happened to interrupt his stroll up the hall. "Merely taking your life would not satisfy me, I admit-"

"There is nothing worse than death, Dumbledore!" snarled Voldemort.

"You are quite wrong," said Dumbledore, still closing in upon Voldemort and speaking as lightly as though they were discussing the matter over drinks. Harry felt scared to see him walking along, undefended, shieldless; he wanted to cry out a warning, but his headless guard kept shunting him backwards towards the wall, blocking his every attempt to get out from behind it. "Indeed, your failure to understand that there are things much worse than death has always been your greatest weakness-"

Another jet of green light flew from behind the silver shield. This time it was the one-armed centaur, galloping in front of Dumbledore, that took the blast and shattered into a hundred pieces, but before the fragments had even hit the floor, Dumbledore had drawn back his wand and waved it as though brandishing a whip. A long thin flame flew from the tip; it wrapped itself around Voldemort, shield and all. For a moment, it seemed Dumbledore had won, but then the fiery rope became a serpent, which relinquished its hold on Voldemort at once and turned, hissing furiously, to face Dumbledore.

Voldemort vanished; the snake reared from the floor, ready to strike-

There was a burst of flame in midair above Dumbledore just as Voldemort reappeared, standing on the plinth in the middle of the pool where so recently the five statues had stood.

"Look out!" Harry yelled.

But even as he shouted, another jet of green light flew at Dumbledore from Voldemort's wand and the snake struck-

Fawkes swooped down in front of Dumbledore, opened his beak wide and swallowed the jet of green light whole: he burst into flame and fell to the floor, small, wrinkled and flightless. At the same moment, Dumbledore brandished his wand in one long, fluid movement-the snake, which had been an instant from sinking its fangs into him, flew high into the air and vanished in a wisp of dark smoke; and the water in the pool rose up and covered Voldemort like a cocoon of molten glass.

For a few seconds Voldemort was visible only as a dark, rippling, faceless figure, shimmering and indistinct upon the plinth, clearly struggling to throw off the suffocating mass-

Then he was gone and the water fell with a crash back into its pool, slopping wildly over the sides, drenching the polished floor.

"MASTER!" screamed Bellatrix.

Sure it was over, sure Voldemort had decided to flee, Harry made to run out from behind his statue guard, but Dumbledore bellowed: "Stay where you are, Harry!"

For the first time, Dumbledore sounded frightened. Harry could not see why: the hall was quite empty but for themselves, the sobbing Bellatrix still trapped under the witch statue, and the baby phoenix Fawkes croaking feebly on the floor-'

Then Harry's scar burst open and he knew he was dead: it was pain beyond imagining, pain past endurance—

Then he stood in a room, at least he thought it was a room, everything was black. He could just see a wall in front and what looked like a door. He stared for a minute before he heard, like it was coming through a tunnel, "Kill me now, Dumbledore ..." With it came a throbbing pain in his scare and jaw, and that, above all was what made him realise what was going on.

Voldermort had possessed him, was using his body, was in his mind. _But_, that little slytherin part of him whispered, _doesn't that mean I have access to his mind as well, I bet that's what that door is._ He stepped closer to the door shaped shadow but it appeared to stay the same distance away. Then he remembered something he had read in one of the books on occulmency. He turned and there was a door painted silver, slightly agar. He walked towards it and gasped as he realised that his mind appeared to be otherwise unprotected.

He stepped through the door and immediately was assaulted with pictures. He guessed they were memories. He reached out and touched the nearest one.

_He was sitting in a large room made of stone. Below him was a sea of people in robes and white masks, bowing to show their respect. "Rodolphus, what do you have for me?" a voice said. Faintly Harry realised that instead of being an observer in Voldemort's memory, he was Voldermort, like his visions._

_"My Lord, the Potter boy is overly attached to his godfather. According to sources, he would do anything for Black," one of the black clad figures near the front replied._

_"Excellent, Rodolphus, you will be rewarded for your information," he hissed. "Bella, what of the mudblood family I asked to be captured and terminated?"_

_"They are in the dungeons, my Lord, all except the father. He died in the confrontation, a rebound blasting curse caught the ceiling above him and he died as it crushed him. I am sorry my Lord for not completing your orders, I tried, I really did," she grovelled._

_"Bella, I care not if one of the mudbloods died, it only brought forward the inevitable. They are merely tonight's entertainment. Worm tail!" one of the black figures squeaked, "take Avery and Nott, and bring the family."_

_Three figures bowed with a "Yes, My Lord," and leaving. He continued to command his followers and receive news while waiting for his followers to return with the prisoners. Wormtail was dragging a woman by her hair when he returned and each of Avery and Nott dragged a young teenage girl by their arms the youngest looking not much older than Harry. Nott also carried a small boy under his free arm, looking to be around seven._

_"Ah, our entertainment has arrived. Rodolphus, Bella, your reward you may choose your toy to share between you. Macnair, you may have the boy serve you for as long as you choose. I wish to have the mother. The rest of you may take turns on the remaining toy at your pleasure. Do not kill them!"_

_He stood, walking down from his dais, watching as the married couple picked out the youngest woman and Macnair shot a stunner at the struggling boy and tugged him to the floo. He approached the mother and ran his wand down her check._

Harry ripped himself from the memory, not wishing to see what happened next. He walked along the corridor of memories, looking along to see if anything caught his eye. He walked for what seemed like hours before he came to a familiar scene. It was the graveyard. He went to move on quickly, but then he saw that it was looking at the graveyard from afar, not in the graveyard. He reached out and touched it, feeling himself merge with the memory.

_He was walking along a country lane. He passed the wooden sign with two arms. The one pointing back the way they had come read: "Great Hangleton, 5 miles". The arm pointing after Ogden said "Little Hangleton, 1 mile"._

_He walked a short way with nothing to see but the hedgerows, the wide blue sky overhead and the swishing, frock-coated figure ahead. Then the lane curved to the left and fell away, sloping steeply down a hillside, so that he had a sudden, unexpected view of a whole valley laid out in front of them. He could see a village, undoubtedly Little Hangleton, nestled between two steep hills, its church and graveyard clearly visible. Across the valley, set on the opposite hillside, was a handsome manor house surrounded by a wide expanse of velvety green lawn._

_That was his destination, after he had visited the home where his mother grew up and visited his uncle. He needed to borrow a wand, his own wouldn't do, Dumbledore would most likely check his wand when he went back to school, and besides, his own still had the ministry tracker until Christmas._

_He vaguely wondered if this was the right thing to do but pushed that thought out of his mind. He needed to make these Hocruxes so that he was immortal. And he needed to be immortal to rule the wizarding world. He would not be beaten by death._

Harry pulled out of the memory, puzzled. "What's a Hocrux?" he asked himself. He jumped when suddenly the memories began to move. It was like a conveyer belt of memories, some moving off to the side in front of him. He tried to watch the memories but soon became dizzy so watched the memories 'pile' in front of him. When the strange process finished he had over twenty memories in front of him. He thought for a while and decided to start at the first memory and work his way forward.

What followed was a discovery that stunned, horrified and generally revolted Harry. He learned what Hocruxes were, how to make them, the ritual to do so in perfect detail and, thankfully, how to destroy them.

The next memory he came to after viewing one with a conversation with a professor Slughorn was the one that lead to this discovery. He re-entered the memory, this time watching the whole memory. He watched as Voldemort stunned and stole the wand of his uncle, used it to kill his father and grandparents, perform the ritual to pull the split parts of his soul from his body and encase them in the diary he recognised from his second year and a ring which held a familiar crest he recognised from someway. He watch as he returned to the little hut and gave his uncle his wand back. Watched ripped up a floor board and stored the ring there and begun to cast wards with another wand, again not his own. He then he edited his uncles memories and intoxicated him. As he watched Voldemort walk beck up the lane, leaving the little village behind the memory began to blur and suddenly he was back in the strange corridor.

He moved on to the next memory and found himself in strange building. There was a woman, asleep in the bed next to him. Harry watched as Voldemort raised his wand and killed her, again performing the ritual to pull his split piece of soul and place in a locket that he instantly recognised. He watched, and unfortunately felt, as he apparated to a hall he didn't recognise and summon the Death Eaters. As he demanded the use of an elf and one that Harry vaguely recognised offered him one. The memory began to blur as the Death Eater meeting continued.

The next memory was of the Death Eater presenting him with an elf. If Harry had not been so moulded to Voldemort right then he would have gasped. Stood in front of him was Kreacher. Through his shock he watched as he grabbed the elf and had the same feeling of apparition and they arrived on a cliff by the sea. Again, he apparated in to a large cave. He watched as they crossed an underground lake that Harry was sure was not made of water. body's floated in the liquid, bumping against the boat. The man and elf arrived at an island and Kreacher was commanding to drink a liquid in a crystal bowl. He watched horrified as Kreacher screamed and begged to stop and how Voldermort just ignored him, placing the same locket from, a locket that Harry now knew where he recognised it from, in to the bowl and re-filled it. He then left and as the memory blurred, the last thing he saw was Kreacher crawling to the edge of the island and cupping his hands to drink from the lake. He watched as a pale hand reached up and pulled the elf into the water. Then he was kneeling in the corridor of memories, shaking.

He didn't know how long he sat there, on the floor, shaking. He felt sorry for the elf and sad at how he was treated after what he had been through. He vowed the be kinder to the elf, to ask how he escaped. He also knew he had to ask Kreature what had happened to the locket, whether he had kept it.

He now remembered the locket the one that everyone had tried to open when cleaning out the drawing room in Sirius's house. He ignored that anguish at think of Sirius, shook of the memory of him lying in a pool of blood as he stood.

He moved on to the next memory, watching each memory as it revealed each of the Hocruxes being created, a gold cup with the Hufflepuff crest in graved, a diadem he knew from Luna belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw, a snake, the same snake he had viewed through at Christmas. He watched as each was hidden, the cup gifted to Bellatrix with instructions to keep it safe, the diadem placed atop a statues head in the Room Of Requirement's Room of Hidden Things, the snake kept with him always, layered in protective spells. He finally came to the last memory and as he reached out he had a strange feeling that he was not going to like what he saw.

_He stood out side a small house, watching as two adults chased a toddler around the room as he flew on a small toy broom. The muggle's trick or treating walked on past as if the house wasn't there._

_He walked towards the front door and blew it off its hinges and heard through the smoke a man's voice, shouting, panicking -  
"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off -"  
The sounds of someone stumbling up stairs and a door slamming. the smoke cleared revealing the James, wand drawn. Before the man even had a chance to cast he was dead, a bolt of green striking him to the floor._

_Voldemort barley glanced at him as he stepped over him to glide up the stairs. He heard load wailing from the last door down the corridor and moved towards it. Again he blast the door open. This time stepping through the smoke._

_The child sat in it's crib, the mudblood girl stood protectively in front of him._

_"Not Harry! Not Harry! Please - I'll do anything -"  
"Stand aside - stand aside, girl -"_

_"Please not Harry! Kill me! Not Harry!"_

_He flicked his wand and with a sob and a thump she feel, dead and staring with those unnatural eyes. He raised his wand at the snivelling toddler, drawing his chosen object, a small tapestry with the slytherin family line stitched in, from his pocket. A green spell directed at the toddler and he cast the spell to start the ritual to separate his soul and place it within the object. However, before he could direct it, a jet of green struck his chest and -nothing -he had no feeling -no body -_

_He had to get away. He flew over the crib, out of the open window. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something black connected with the cut on the boy's forehead. But then the memory blurred and –_

Again, Harry was on the floor. Again, he was shaking but this time with sobs as he mourned his long dead parents, as he noted that he had given her a chance, if she had only stood aside, if she had only let him die, she would be alive.

He sobbed.

As he calmed he thought of what that memory showed.

He was a Horcrux.

He had to die so that Voldemort could be defeated.

He had to die.

Earlier than planed but it made no difference. He was already dying and he had a feeling that this way would be less painful. He stood, determined to tell Dumbledore of this, determined to have control of his own mind again. It hurt fighting for control. It was a deathly pain, one he wanted to stop, to just give in but then he thought of Sirius, lying in a pool of blood and suddenly he was free.

And there were voices echoing through the hall, more voices than there should have been ... Harry opened his eyes, saw his glasses lying by the heel of the headless statue that had been guarding him, but which now lay flat on its back, cracked and immobile. He put them on and raised his head a little to find Dumbledore's crooked nose inches from his own.  
"Are you all right, Harry?"  
"Yes," said Harry, shaking so violently he could not hold his head up properly. "Yeah, I'm -where's Voldemort, where-who are all these-what's-"  
The Atrium was full of people; the floor was reflecting the emerald green flames that had burst into fire in all the fireplaces along one wall; and streams of witches and wizards were emerging from them. As Dumbledore pulled him back to his feet, Harry saw the tiny gold statues of the house-elf and the goblin, leading a stunned-looking Cornelius Fudge forward.  
"He was there!" shouted a scarlet-robed man with a ponytail, who was pointing at a pile of golden rubble on the other side of the hall, where Bellatrix had lain trapped only moments before. "I saw him, Mr. Fudge, I swear it was You-Know-Who, he grabbed a woman and Disapparated!"  
"I know, Williamson, I know, I saw him too!" gibbered Fudge, who was wearing pyjamas under his pinstriped cloak and was gasping as though he had just run miles. "Merlin's beard-here-here!- in the Ministry of Magic!-great heavens above-it doesn't seem possible-my word-how can this be-?"  
"If you proceed downstairs into the Department of Mysteries, Cornelius," said Dumbledore- apparently satisfied that Harry was all right, and walking forwards so that the newcomers realised he was there for the first time (a few of them raised their wands; others simply looked amazed; the statues of the elf and goblin applauded and Fudge jumped so much that his slipper-clad feet left the floor) - "you will find several escaped Death Eaters contained in the Death Chamber, bound by an Anti-Disapparation Jinx and awaiting your decision as to what to do with them."  
"Dumbledore!" gasped Fudge, beside himself with amazement. "You-here-I-I-"  
He looked wildly around at the Aurors he had brought with him and it could not have been clearer that he was in half a mind to cry, "Seize him!"  
"Cornelius, I am ready to fight your men-and win, again!" said Dumbledore in a thunderous voice. "But a few minutes ago you saw proof, with your own eyes, that I have been telling you the truth for a year. Lord Voldemort has returned, you have been chasing the wrong man for twelve months, and it is time you listened to sense!"  
"I-don't-well-" blustered Fudge, looking around as though hoping somebody was going to tell him what to do. When nobody did, he said, "Very well-Dawlish! Williamson! Go down to the Department of Mysteries and see ... Dumbledore, you-you will need to tell me exactly-the Fountain of Magical Brethren-what happened?" he added in a kind of whimper, staring around at the floor, where the remains of the statues of the witch, wizard and centaur now lay scattered.  
"We can discuss that after I have sent Harry back to Hogwarts," said Dumbledore.  
"Harry-Harry Potter?"  
Fudge wheeled around and stared at Harry, who was still standing against the wall beside the fallen statue that had guarded him during Dumbledore and Voldemort's duel.  
"He-here?" said Fudge, goggling at Harry. "Why-what's all this about?"  
"I shall explain everything," repeated Dumbledore, "when Harry is back at school."  
He walked away from the pool to the place where the golden wizard's head lay on the floor. He pointed his wand at it and muttered, 'Portus.' The head glowed blue and trembled noisily against the wooden floor for a few seconds, then became still once more.  
"Now see here, Dumbledore!" said Fudge, as Dumbledore picked up the head and walked back to Harry carrying it. "You haven't got authorisation for that Portkey! You can't do things like that right in front of the Minister for Magic, you-you-"  
His voice faltered as Dumbledore surveyed him magisterially over his half-moon spectacles.  
"You will give the order to remove Dolores Umbridge from Hogwarts," said Dumbledore. "You will tell your Aurors to stop searching for my Care of Magical Creatures teacher so that he can return to work. I will give you ..." Dumbledore pulled a watch with twelve hands from his pocket and surveyed it..."half an hour of my time tonight, in which I think we shall be more than able to cover the important points of what has happened here. After that, I shall need to return to my school. If you need more help from me you are, of course, more than welcome to contact me at Hogwarts. Letters addressed to the Headmaster will find me."  
Fudge goggled worse than ever; his mouth was open and his round face grew pinker under his rumpled grey hair. "I-you-"  
Dumbledore turned his back on him.  
"Take this Portkey, Harry."  
He held out the golden head of the statue and Harry placed his hand on it, past caring what he did next or where he went.  
"I shall see you in half an hour," said Dumbledore quietly. "One ... two ... three ..."  
Harry felt the familiar sensation of a hook being jerked behind his navel. The polished wooden floor was gone from beneath his feet; the Atrium, Fudge and Dumbledore had all disappeared and he was flying forwards in a whirlwind of colour and sound ...

Harry's feet hit solid ground; his knees buckled a little and the golden wizard's head fell with a resounding clunk to the floor. He looked around and saw that he had arrived in Dumbledore's office.

Everything seemed to have repaired itself during the Headmasters absence. The delicate silver instruments stood once more on the spindle-legged tables, puffing and whirring serenely. The portraits of the headmasters and headmistresses were snoozing in their frames, heads lolling back in armchairs or against the edge of the picture. Harry looked through the window. There was a cool line of pale green along the horizon: dawn was approaching.

The silence and the stillness, broken only by the occasional grunt or snuffle of a sleeping portrait, was unbearable to him. If his surroundings could have reflected the feelings inside him, the pictures would have been screaming in pain. He walked around the quiet, beautiful office, breathing quickly, trying not to think. But he had to think ... there was no escape ...

It was his fault Sirius had died; it was all his fault. If he, Harry, had not been stupid enough to fall for Voldemort's trick, if he had not been so convinced that what he had seen in his dream was real, if he had only opened his mind to the possibility that Voldemort was, as Hermione had said, banking on Harry's love of playing the hero ...

It was unbearable, he would not think about it, he could not stand it ... there was a terrible hollow inside him he did not want to feel or examine, a dark hole where Sirius had been, where Sirius had vanished; he did not want to have to be alone with that great, silent space, he could not stand it-

A picture behind him gave a particularly loud grunting snore, and a cool voice said, "Ah ... Harry Potter ..."

Phineas Nigellus gave a long yawn, stretching his arms as he surveyed Harry out of shrewd, narrow eyes.

"And what brings you here in the early hours of the morning?" said Phineas eventually. "This office is supposed to be barred to all but the rightful Headmaster. Or has Dumbledore sent you here? Oh, don't tell me ..." He gave another shuddering yawn. "Another message for my worthless great-great-grandson?"

Harry could not speak. Phineas Nigellus did not know that Sirius was dead, but Harry could not tell him. To say it aloud would be to make it final, absolute, irretrievable.

A few more of the portraits had stirred now. Terror of being interrogated made Harry stride across the room and seize the doorknob.

It would not turn. He was shut in.

"I hope this means," said the corpulent, red-nosed wizard who hung on the wall behind the Headmasters desk, "that Dumbledore will soon be back among us?"

Harry turned. The wizard was surveying him with great interest. Harry nodded. He tugged again on the doorknob behind his back, but it remained immovable.

"Oh good," said the wizard. "It has been very dull without him, very dull indeed."

He settled himself on the throne-like chair on which he had been painted and smiled benignly upon Harry.

"Dumbledore thinks very highly of you, as I am sure you know," he said comfortably. "Oh yes. Holds you in great esteem."

The guilt filling the whole of Harry's chest like some monstrous, weighty parasite, now writhed and squirmed. Harry could not stand this, he could not stand being himself any more ... he had never felt more trapped inside his own head and body, never wished so intensely that he could be somebody, anybody else ...

The empty fireplace burst into emerald green flame, making Harry leap away from the door, staring at the man spinning inside the grate. As Dumbledore's tall form unfolded itself from the fire, the wizards and witches on the surrounding walls jerked awake, many of them giving cries of welcome.

"Thank you," said Dumbledore softly.

He did not look at Harry at first, but walked over to the perch beside the door and withdrew, from an inside pocket of his robes, the tiny, ugly, featherless Fawkes, whom he placed gently on the tray of soft ashes beneath the golden post where the full-grown Fawkes usually stood.

"Well, Harry," Dumbledore began but Harry interrupted.

"Professor, Tom's got Horcruxes. You need to let the order know."

"How? I have known and began searching but…"

Harry shuffled his feet before blurting, "I went through his memories, I didn't mean to, it just happened. He was in my head and suddenly I was in his and there were all these memory's and one of them mentioned Horcruxes and I wanted to know what they were and the memories showed me and-"

Dumbledore chuckled, holding up a hand to quiet him. "I'm not mad Harry, in fact I am impressed. Tell me what you know, please?" Harry explain from beginning to end the time he spent in Voldermorts mind, bar the memory containing his parents death. "There's something else, isn't there, Harry?"

Harry nodded but couldn't speak. Finally, he pointed at the Pensieve cupboard and, after Dumbledore had fetched the cupboard, placed the last memory in the Pensieve. While Dumbledore watched the memory, Harry just sat there, replaying Sirius hitting the veil and bleeding on the ground over and over again.

"Do you understand what you saw, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, making him jump. Harry nodded. Dumbledore's famous twinkle dimmed and his  
caring smile was no where to be seen. "I am sorry, my boy, about what you must do."

"It's alright, sir, I understand. Besides, it's only bringing forward the inevitable. We both know that."

"I'm sorry that," Dumbledore began but Harry raised his hand and shook his head. Dumbledore sighed. "I'll call the order together tomorrow. I'll let them know about this development." He paused. "Would you consent to having them know about your condition?"

Harry thought about it. "I don't want Severus or Remus to know. I may have made peace with Severus but I still remember first year. And I don't want Remus to worry and fuss, he has enough to worry about with Sirius in hospital. Those who aren't good at keeping secrets shouldn't know either as they will end up telling the others."

"I'll agree to that. Now, I believe you should head to the hospital wing and let Madame Pomfrey look you over and give you your medication before you go to sleep. Then, tomorrow, Sirius should be waking up out of his healing coma and you will be given permission to visit." He smiled at Harry's stunned and confused face. "He didn't die Harry. We have Tonks second hand knowledge of medi-magic from her mother. She placed him in a healing coma while containing the damage done by the blow. He was also pardoned after the captured Death Eater's admitted under Veritisirum the Pettigrew was alive. So as of his release from St Mungo's he will be a free man."

"Really?" Harry whispered hopefully. Dumbledore nodded happily. "And he's going to be ok?" Dumbledore's smile dropped slightly. "What? What's wrong with him?" Harry asked, panicking.

Dumbledore sighed. "He has some degree of brain damage. We don't know yet how bad. It could be fine, it could be that he has memory problems or it could be that he is paralyzed in some way. We don't know until he wakes up."

Harry nodded slowly, "What about my friends?"

"Well, Harry," said Dumbledore, "you will be pleased to hear that none of your fellow students are going to suffer lasting damage from the night's events."  
Harry tried to say, "Good," but no sound came out. It seemed to him that Dumbledore was reminding him of the amount of damage he had caused, and although Dumbledore was for once looking at him directly, and although his expression was kindly rather than accusatory, Harry could not bear to meet his eyes.

"Madam Pomfrey is patching everybody up," said Dumbledore. "Kingsley Shaklebolt may need to spend a little time in St. Mungo's, but it seems he will make a full recovery." He nodded, then stood and, in a daze, walked out of the office towards the hospital wing.

XXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXX xxxXX

The room was dazzlingly white. That was Harry's first thought. His second was that Sirius matched the room, he looked so pale. Surrounded by a magic field that pulsed with is heart beat, he looked so venerable and close to death.

"We'll take the Healing coma field away now," a small blonde healer said, waving her wand. The field pulsed twice in quick succession and then vanished. "It's up to him to wake up now." She left, leaving Harry, Remus, half the order and Dumbledore watching hopefully for a sign that he was waking up.

A few minutes went by before Sirius groaned. Remus was by his side in seconds and Harry smiled along with the rest of those present. Sirius's eyes fluttered open then slammed shut in protest to the light. Harry reached over and flicked half of them off.

His eyes opened again and immediately flicked over Remus.

"What did I do to end up here?" he grinned.

Remus didn't, instead asking, "What's the last thing you remember, Padfoot?"

Sirius's forehead scrunched up in thought. Finally, "duelling my dear cousin and taunting her."

Remus sighed in relief. "One of her spells hit you, sending you flying backwards. You hit your head on the side of the veil. It was bleed so bad, we thought you were dead, you would have died had Tonks not paid attention to her mother's medi-magic lessons."

Sirius sat stunned as the Healer came in, alerted by Dumbledore. She looked disproving at the lights but did not turn them on. As she carried out her exam most order members left after a small exclamation on how glad they were he was alive. Tonks, Moody, Dumbledore, Remus and Harry remained.

"Thanks, Dora. I guess I'll have to find a way to repay you know. Hmm, maybe I can set you and Kingsley up?" Tonks blushed bright red before hugging Sirius, mumbling something about checking on Kingsley while waiting for Harry and leaving.

"Glad to know that you are alright, Sirius. And I'm sure you'll be happy to know that you are now a free man. Now, I will take my leave as I have a busy time at the ministry ahead." With that Dumbledore followed Tonks.

"So, how long have I been out?" asked Sirius.

"About three days," answered Moody. "you gave us all a right scare, Black. I thought Harry was going to Crucio your cousin when he went after her."

"Not without lack of trying," Harry muttered, catching the others attention. Moody look shocked but then noticed the disgusted look on his face. "I am never trying that, or any dark magic, if that's what it feels like." He shivered, remembering the disgusting feeling he had when he cast the spell.

"Sirius, what's wrong?" Remus asked noticing Sirius scrutinising Harry.

"Who is he, Moony?" Sirius asked, pointing at Harry. Everyone froze.

"What do you mean, that's Harry, Prongs son."

"I don't remember him having a son."

"You're my godfather, Sirius," whispered Harry. He was starring at him in stunned shock.

"You do look a bit like him I suppose. And those eyes have got to be Lily's eyes. But, I don't remember you." Harry with held a sob at those words.

Moody returned, Harry hadn't even noticed he was gone, Healer in tow. "What seems to be the problem, gentlemen?" she asked.

"He can't remember Harry."

"hmm." She began to wave his wand over Sirius's head. Everyone watched with battered breath as a scroll appeared in her hand. "It seam's that there is some minimal damage to the temporal lobe. It is likely that he forgot the last thing he saw before he damaged his head. I'm afraid that there is no way to know whether it permanent." She smiled apologetically and left.

Harry felt a sob build up and turned and ran. "Harry, wait, you can't go running off," he heard Remus call. He didn't stop. He didn't even realise where he was running until he stood outside the ward Kingsley resided in. He stared at the door, tears streaming down his face. Finally, he stepped inside.

Dumbledore immediately turned around to face him, surveying him over his half moon spectacles. He gestured his over to Kingsley's bed and Tonks looked up. She started when she saw Harry's tear stained face.

"What's wrong, Harry?" she asked softly, standing and pulling him in her arms. "Is something wrong with Sirius?" Harry nodded, bursting into fresh sobs. "What is it?" She pulled him down on the chair she had recently vacated and began to rock him on her lap.

"Sirius he-he doesn't-doesn't-doesn't remember me! The-the Healer said-said that he-he might never-never remember!" he sobbed. The three adults exchanged glances above his head as Tonks tried to sooth him. Finally, he whispered tiredly, "I want to go home, back to Hogwarts. Please?"

"I will alert Remus and Alaster, I'm sure they are searching the hospital for you. I will also go and talk to the Healers," Dumbledore swept out of the room. Harry clambered off Tonks lap, scarlet. Tonks also stood. She had an whispered and, Harry thought, awkward conversation.

Five minutes later, when the room's tension seemed to escalate, he muttered, "just kiss each other already. Merlin, your almost as bad Ron and Hermione." The two adults blushed but caught each others eye. They blushed further. "I take that back, at least they don't blush every time they catch each others eye. I'll wait by the door while you to stop being awkward." He said over his shoulder, spotting Moody and Dumbledore outside.

The two aged men were talking in whispers when Harry step out side. He cleared his throat to let them know he was there then turned around in time to catch Kingsley lean up and kiss Tonks square on the lips. Tonks seemed to freeze in shock and Kingsley pulled away, obviously apologising. Tonks cut him off mid-word, it seemed, when she returned the kiss. Harry grinned widely. "Finally!" he exclaimed, catching the men's attention. They moved to look over the teens shoulder and Moody chuckled.

"Seam's black will have to find a new way to repay Dora, now. Good work kid. You'd make a good matchmaker." he cringed a second later as Harry's smile dropped at his godfather's name.

"Let's get you back to school," Dumbledore said, patting him on the shoulder. "I'm sure we can spare Nymphadora to watch over Kingsley. I'll stand in as guard," he ashored the protesting Moody. He quickly stuck his head in the room and had a quick conversation with Tonks before they left.

Harry didn't leave his dorm room for the rest of term.

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It wasn't until Sirius saw Ron and Hermione that he started remembering Harry. It took nearly half a year for those memory's to come back completely and even then he was prone to having memory lapses. Harry refused to see him until June when the man finally cornered him and proved that he did remember him.

During this time, Harry and Dumbledore had destroyed three Horcruxes.

The ring, which Harry and Dumbledore wore on occasion when they wanted to see their loved ones, was destroyed first with the Gryffindor sward. They told no else what the ring did and most of the time it stayed looked in a special safe that Dumbledore created that only Harry and himself could open.

The locket, which Harry placed a picture of his parents and one Tonks and Kingsley at their wedding inside and began wearing it daily, was next. They did have a bit of trouble figuring out who R.A.B was until they talked to Kreacher. The elf traded the lockets and then requested, after a long talk with Harry, to become his elf. Harry was kinder to Kreacher much to the confusion of all but Dumbledore.

The easiest was by far the diadem, which they only had to walk up to the room of requirement and ask for the Room Of Hidden Things and stab it. Harry Secretly set Kreacher, Dobby and, once he had persuaded her that she was putting her old master to shame, Winky to empty the rooms things in to his trunk's apartment and destroy anything dark.

Dumbledore managed to get the Hufflepuff cup back by having the goblins check the vault and then commanding that the founders relic should be returned to Hogwarts. The goblins agreed and another Horcrux bit the dust.

Now the only Horcruxes left were Nagini, Voldemort's pet snake, and Harry himself. However, only Dumbledore and Harry knew that he was one as after how the order had reacted when told about Harry's disease, they thought it best to keep that to themselves.


	5. Chapter 2: The End Of The Beginning

**A/N Okay, took me a while to figure out how to do a poll. But now it's up so please vote. Anyway, some people have been asking how my updating is going to work. I would like to update every two weeks but it really depends on the chapter itself. If it's long it will take me longer than normal, short and it will take me less time than normal although I will try to stick to my word count of at least 5000 word per chapter.**

**Time to crash,**

**Goodnight,**

**Forgiving**

* * *

Chapter 2- The end of the beginning

With a thump the snakes head rolled to the ground. With a roar Riddle fired the killing curse at Harry. With a smile Harry hit the ground, dead. The world stopped breathing. The battle paused to listen to the Dark Lords triumphant cackles.

Everyone wondered why Dumbledore did not take advantage of the Dark Lords distraction. Why he didn't kill the Dark Lord. Why he just stood and watched their fallen hero.

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He lay face down, listening to the silence. He was perfectly alone. Nobody was watching. Nobody else was there. He was not perfectly sure that he was there himself.

A long time later, or maybe no time at all, it came to him that he must exist, must be more than disembodied thought, because he was lying, definitely lying, on some surface. Therefore he had a sense of touch, and the thing against which he lay existed too.

Almost as soon as he had reached this conclusion, Harry became conscious that he was naked. Convinced as he was of his total solitude, this did not concern him, but it did intrigue him slightly. He wondered whether, as he could feel, he would be able to see. In opening them, he discovered that he had eyes.

He lay in a bright mist, though it was not like mist he had ever experienced before. His surroundings were not hidden by cloudy vapour; rather the cloudy vapour had not yet formed into surroundings. The floor on which he lay seemed to be white, neither warm nor cold, but simply there, a flat, blank something on which to be.

He sat up. His body appeared unscathed. He touched his face. He was not wearing glasses anymore.

Then a noise reached him through the unformed nothingness that surrounded him: the small soft thumping's of something that flapped, flailed, and struggled. It was a pitiful noise, yet also slightly indecent. He had the uncomfortable feeling that he was eavesdropping on something furtive, shameful.

For the first time, he wished he were clothed.

Barely had the wish formed in his head than robes appeared a short distance away. He took them and pulled them on. They were soft, clean, and warm. It was extraordinary how they had appeared just like that, the moment he had wanted them...

He stood up, looking around. Was he in some great Room of Requirement? The longer he looked, the more there was to see. A great domed glass roof glittered high above him in sunlight. Perhaps it was a palace. All was hushed and still, except for those odd thumping and whimpering noises coming from somewhere close by in the mist...

Harry turned slowly on the spot, and his surroundings seemed to invent themselves before his eyes. A wide-open space, bright and clean, a hall larger by far than the Great Hall, with that clear domed glass ceiling. It was quite empty. He was the only person there, except for ¨C He recoiled. He had spotted the thing that was making the noises. It had the form of a small, naked child, curled on the ground, its skin raw and rough, flayed-looking, and it lay shuddering under a seat where it had been left, unwanted, stuffed out of sight, struggling for breath.

He was afraid of it. Small and fragile and wounded though it was, he did not want to approach it. Nevertheless he drew slowly nearer, ready to jump back at any moment. Soon he stood near enough to touch it, yet he could not bring himself to do it. He felt like a coward. He ought to comfort it, but it repulsed him.

"You cannot help."

He spun around. A woman was walking toward him sprightly and upright, wearing sweeping robes of midnight blue.

She was Lily Potter. His mother.

"But you're dead," said Harry.

"Oh yes," she said matter-of-factly.

"Then... I'm dead too?"

"Ah," she said, smiling still more broadly. "That is the question, isn't it? On the whole, my son, I think not."

They looked at each other, Lily still smiling at her son.

"Not?" repeated Harry.

"Not," confirmed Lily.

"But..." Harry raised his hand instinctively toward the lightning scar. It did not seem to be there. "But I should have died! I didn't defend myself! I meant to let him kill me!"

"And that," said Lily, "will, I think, have made all the difference."

Happiness seemed to radiate from Lily like light; like fire: Harry had never seen some one so utterly, so palpably content.

"Explain," said Harry.

"But you already know," said Lily. She twiddled her thumbs together.

"I let him kill me," said Harry. "Didn't I?"

"You did," said Lily, nodding. "Go on!"

"So the part of his soul that was in me... has it gone?"

"Oh yes!" She said happily. "Yes, he destroyed it. Your soul is whole, and completely your own, Harry."

"But then..."

Harry trembled over his shoulder to where the small, maimed creature trembled under the chair.

"What is that?"

"That, Harry is the piece of soul that was encased in your scare. It is here because I need to take t with me when I leave," his mother explained.

"But if Riddle used the Killing Curse," Harry started again, "and nobody died for me this time how can I be alive?"

"I think you know," said Lily. "Think back. Remember what he did, in his ignorance, in his greed and his cruelty."

Harry thought. He let his gaze drift over his surroundings. If it was indeed a palace in which they sat, it was an odd one, with chairs set in little rows and bits of railing here and there, and still, he and his mother and the stunted creatures under the chair were the only beings there. Then the answer rose to his lips easily, without effort.

"He took my blood," said Harry.

"Precisely!" said Lily. "He took your blood and rebuilt his living body with it! Your blood in his veins, Harry, Lily's protection inside both of you! He tethered you to life while he lives!"

"I live... while he lives? But I thought... I thought it was the other way around! I thought we both had to die? Or is it the same thing? Explain... more," said Harry, and she smiled.

"You were the seventh Horcrux, Harry, the Horcrux he never meant to make. He had rendered his soul so unstable that it broke apart when he committed those acts of unspeakable evil, the murder of me and your father, the attempted killing of a child. But what escaped from that room was even less than he knew. He left more than his body behind. He left part of himself latched to you, the would-be victim who had survived."

And his knowledge remained woefully incomplete, Harry! That which Riddle does not value, he takes no trouble to comprehend. Of house-elves and children's tales, of love, loyalty, and innocence, Riddle knows and understands nothing. Nothing. That they all have a power beyond his own, a power beyond the reach of any magic, is a truth he has never grasped."

He took your blood believing it would strengthen him. He took into his body a tiny part of the enchantment I laid upon you when I died for you. His body keeps my sacrifice alive, and while that enchantment survives, so do you and so does Riddle's one last hope for himself."

"I feel great at the moment, though," said Harry, looking down at his clean, unblemished hands. "Where are we, exactly?"

"Well, I was going to ask you that," said Lily, looking around. "Where would you say that we are?"

Until his mother had asked, Harry had not known. Now, however, he found that he had an answer ready to give.

"It looks," he said slowly, "like King's Cross station. Except a lot cleaner and empty, and there are no trains as far as I can see."

"King's Cross station!" Lily was chuckling immoderately. "Good gracious, really? It seems to have changed since my day!"

"Well, where do you think we are?" asked Harry, a little defensively.

"My dear boy, I have no idea. This is, as they say, your party."

Harry had no idea what this meant; his mother was acting like Dumbledore. He glared at her.

The creature behind them jerked and moaned, and Harry and his mother sat without talking for the longest time yet. The realization of what would happen next settled gradually over Harry in the long minutes, like softly falling snow.

"I've got to go back, haven't I?"

"That is up to you."

"I've got a choice?"

"Oh yes," Lily smiled at him. "We are in King's Cross you say? I think that if you decided not to go back, you would be able to... let's say... board a train."

"And where would it take me?"

"On," said Lily simply.

Silence again.

"If I go back I'll return in a few years anyway."

"I am sorry, Harry," Lily said, her smile disappearing. "I wish I could take that with me, make it so that you could live a happy life! I really do!"

"I understand, you could do no more than Albus can." He sighed. "You want me to go back?"

"If you choose to return, there is a chance that He may be finished for good. I cannot promise it. But I know this, Harry that you have less to fear from returning here than he does."

Harry glanced again at the raw looking thing that trembled and choked in the shadow beneath the distant chair.

"Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and above all, those who live without love. By returning, you may ensure that fewer souls are maimed, fewer families are torn apart. If that seems to you a worthy goal, they we saw good-bye for the present." Harry nodded and sighed. Leaving this place would not be nearly as hard as walking into the forest had been, but it was warm and light and peaceful here, and he knew that he was heading back to pain and the fear of more loss. He stood up, and his mother did the same, and they looked for a long moment into each other's faces. Then he stepped forward and hugged her.

"Tell me one last thing," said Harry as he pulled away, "Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?"

Lily beamed at him, and her voice sounded loud and strong in Harry's ears even though the bright mist was descending again, obscuring his figure.

"Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean it is not real?"

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Harry awoke with a start. The first thing that registered was that he hurt. Everywhere. Then Riddle's insane cackling registered through the pain filled haze, followed by the magic that he recognised as Dumbledore's. He even recognised what type, a monitoring spell. He groaned as the cackling began to irate his already pounding head.

Riddle stopped cackling, frowning, when he heard a groan. He could have sworn that it-

"Harry, my boy, I knew it would work. Would you like a hand up?" Dumbledore said joyfully, walking towards where Harry lay.

"You son of a bitch, you knew I would survive, didn't you," Harry groaned, and continued muttering under his breath about stupid headmasters and how he was never going to get any peace after this. He took the offered hand and pulled himself to his feet, wincing as the pounding pain in his body increased. "Well, Tom," he started.

"Why won't you just die?!" Riddle interrupted. "How?! How dare you?! Why you-"

"Will you shut up, you sadistic bastard!" Harry shouted. He looked around, noticed that some of his friends were running towards him. "Protego!" roared Harry, and the Shield Charm expanded around him, Dumbledore and Riddle.

"I don't want anyone else to help," Harry said loudly, and in the total silence his voice carried like a trumpet call. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

Riddle hissed.

"Potter doesn't mean that," he said, his red eyes wide. "This isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"

"Nobody," said Harry simply. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good..."

"One of us?" jeered Riddle, and his whole body was taut and his red eyes stared, a snake that was about to strike. "You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"

"Accident, was it, when my mother died to save me?" asked Harry. They were still moving sideways, both of them, in that perfect circle, maintaining the same distance from each other, and for Harry no face existed but Riddle's. "Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?"

"Accidents!" screamed Riddle, but still he did not strike, and the watching crowd was frozen as if Petrified, and of the hundreds on the field, nobody seemed to breathe but they two. Even the last remaining Death Eaters, as few as they were, were still. "Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and snivelled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!"

"You won't be killing anyone else tonight," said Harry as they circled, and stared into each other's eyes, green into red. "You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people."

"But you did not!"

"I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"

"You dare-"

"Yes, I dare," said Harry. "I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"

Riddle did not speak, but prowled in a circle, and Harry knew that he kept him temporarily mesmerized at bay, held back by the faintest possibility that Harry might indeed know a final secret...

"Is it love again?" said Riddle, his snakes face jeering. "Dumbledore's favourite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the tower and breaking like and old waxwork? Love, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So what will stop you dying now when I strike?"

"Just one thing," said Harry, and still they circled each other, wrapped in each other, held apart by nothing but the last secret.

"If it is not love that will save you this time," said Voldemort, "you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?"

"I believe both," said Harry, and he saw shock flit across the snakelike face, though it was instantly dispelled; Voldemort began to laugh, and the sound was more frightening than his screams; humourless and insane it echoed around the silent field.

"You think you know more magic than I do?" he said. "Than I, than Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"

"Oh he dreams of it," said Harry, "but he knows more than you, knows enough not to do what you've done."

"You mean he is weak!" screamed Voldemort. "Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!"

"No, he is cleverer than you," said Harry, "a better wizard, a better man. A smarter one to, he out played you."

"What childish dream is this?" said Voldemort, but still he did not strike, and his red eyes did not waver from Harry's.

"Severus Snape isn't yours," said Harry. "Snape is Dumbledore's. Dumbledore's from the moment you starting hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?"

Voldemort did not answer. They continued to circle each other like wolves about to tear each other apart.

"Snape's Patronus is a doe," said Harry, "the same as my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realized," he said as he saw Voldemort's nostrils flare, "he asked you to spare her life, didn't he?"

"He desired her, that was all," sneered Voldemort, "but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him."

"Of course he told you that," said Harry, "but he is Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened her, and he's been working against you ever since!"

"It matters not!" shrieked Voldemort, who had followed every word with rapt attention, but now let out a cackle of mad laughter. "It matters not whether Snape is mine or Dumbledore's, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! I crushed them as I crushed your mother, Snape's supposed great love! Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways that you do not understand!"

"Look behind you," and Voldemort whirled around. Standing there, just outside the shield, were Snape and Malfoy Jr. A brief flash of concern when he did not the elder blonde but lost in concentration when Voldemort faced him again, firing a curse that he countered.

A red-glow burst suddenly across the enchanted sky above them as an edge of dazzling sun appeared over the sill of the nearest window. The light hit both of their faces at the same time, so that Voldemort's was suddenly a flaming blur. Harry heard the high voice shriek as he too yelled his best hope to the heavens, pointing Draco's wand:

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

The bang was like a cannon blast, and the golden flames that erupted between them, at the dead centre of the circle they had been treading, marked the point where the spells collided. Harry saw Voldemort's green jet meet his own spell, saw the Elder Wand fly high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling like the head of Nagini, spinning through the air toward the master it would not kill, who had come to take full possession of it at last. And Harry, with the unerring skill of the Seeker, caught the wand in his free hand as Voldemort fell backward, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upward. Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snakelike face vacant and unknowing. Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry stood with two wands in his hand, staring down at his enemy's shell.

One shivering second of silence, the shock of the moment suspended: and then the tumult broke around Harry as the screams and the cheers and the roars of the watchers rent the air. The fierce new sun dazzled the windows as they thundered toward him, and the first to reach him were Ron and Hermione, and it was their arms that were wrapped around him, their incomprehensible shouts that deafened him. Then Ginny, Neville, and Luna were there, and then all the Weasley's, and Kingsley and McGonagall and Flitwick and Sprout, and Harry could not hear a word that anyone was shouting, not tell whose hands were seizing him, pulling him, trying to hug some part of him, hundreds of them pressing in, all of them determined to touch the Boy Who Lived, the reason it was over at last. Dumbledore watched all of this not even motioning to help him, chuckling merrily.

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The sun rose steadily over Hogwarts, and the Great Hall blazed with life and light. Harry was an indispensable part of the mingled outpourings of jubilation and mourning, of grief and celebration. They wanted him there with them, their leader and symbol, their savoir and their guide, and that he had not slept, that he craved the company of only a few of them, seemed to occur to no one. He must speak to the bereaved, clasp their hands, witness their tears, receive their thanks, hear the news now creeping in from every quarter as the morning drew on; that the Imperiused up and down the country had come back to themselves, that Death Eaters were fleeing or else being captured, that the innocent of Azkaban were being released at that very moment, and that Kingsley Shacklebolt had been named temporary Minister of Magic.

They moved Voldemort's body and laid it in a chamber off the Hall, away from the bodies of Arthur, Molly, Hagrid, Madame Hooch, Colin Creevey, and fifty others who had died fighting him. Dumbledore had replaced the House tables, but nobody was sitting according to House anymore: All were jumbled together, teachers and pupils, ghosts and parents, centaurs and house-elves, and Firenze lay recovering in the corner, and Grawp peered in through a smashed window, and people were throwing food into his laughing mouth. After a while, exhausted and drained, Harry found himself sitting on a bench beside Luna and Neville.

"I'd want some peace and quiet, if it were me," Neville said.

"I'd love some," he replied.

"Don't forget to visit the Nortam," Luna breezed, and Harry grinned and nodded.

"We'll distract them all," Neville said, looking at his girlfriend weirdly. "Use your cloak."

And before he could say a word, Luna had cried, "Oooh, look Neville, a Blibbering Humdinger!" and pointed out the window. Everyone who heard looked around, and Harry slid the Cloak up over himself, and got to his feet.

Now he could move through the Hall without interference. Along the aisle between the tables he walked, and he spotted Draco curled up into Tonks shoulder. Everywhere he looked, he saw families reunited, and finally, he saw the two whose company he craved most.

"It's me," he muttered, crouching down between them. "Will you come with me?"

They stood up at once, and together he, Ron and Hermione left the Great Hall. Great chunks were missing from the marble staircase, part of the balustrade gone, and rubble and bloodstains occurred ever few steps as their climbed.

Somewhere in the distance they could hear Peeves zooming through the corridors singing a victory song of his own composition:

We did it, we bashed them, wee Potter's the one,

And Voldy's gone mouldy, so now let's have fun!

"Really gives a feeling for the scope and tragedy of the thing, doesn't it?" said Ron, pushing open a door to let Harry and Hermione through.

Happiness would come, Harry though, but at the moment it was muffled by exhaustion, and the pain of losing the Weasley parents and Hagrid pierced him like a physical wound every few steps. Most of all he felt the most stupendous relief, and a longing to sleep. But first he owed an explanation to Ron and Hermione, who had stuck with him for so long, and who deserved the truth.

Since he had last seen it, the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the headmaster's study had been knocked aside; it stood lopsided, looking a little punch-drunk, and Harry wondered whether it would be able to distinguish passwords anymore.

"Is he up there? Can we go up?" he asked the gargoyle.

"Yes and feel free," groaned the statue.

They clambered over him and onto the spiral stone staircase that moved slowly upward like an escalator. Harry pushed open the door at the top.

He had one, brief glimpse of the stone Pensieve on the desk and then an ear-splitting noise made him cry out, thinking of curses and returning Death Eaters and the rebirth of Voldemort.

But it was applause. All around the walls, the headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts were giving him a standing ovation; they waved their hats and in some cases their wigs, they reached through their frames to grip each other's hands; they danced up and down on their chairs in which they have been painted: Dilys Derwent sobbed unashamedly; Dexter Fortescue was waving his ear-trumpet; and Phineas Niggelus called, in his high, reedy voice, "And let it be noted that Slytherin House played its part! Let our contribution not be forgotten!"

"I do not think we will ever forget, Niggelus," Dumbledore said, from his seat smiling at them. "I wondered when you would escape. Would you like to explain or shall I?"

"Can you, I have orders from Luna I must follow first," Harry said with a mean full look. Dumbledore nodded and Harry, ignoring his friends inquiring looks, turned and left.

As he made his way to the hospital wing, not for the first time that Luna knew, even help, with his disease. He hadn't meant for her to know, hadn't meant for anyone other than the Order to know, but she had been in the hospital wing when he had gone for one of his monthly checkups. She was meant to have been asleep so Poppy had thought it safe to talk; she was the only other patent that day. Luna had not been asleep, however, she had woken some point during the visit, and concerned for her friend had listened.

She had recognised what Poppy was treating; her father's brother had had it, and had later confronted Harry. It was the first time he had seen Luna drop her crazy mask and he was only the third person she had trusted to do so. Neville being the first, Ginny the second, her father never counted. She had wanted to know when Harry was ever going to tell his friends and Harry's straight answer of never had stunned her until he explained why. Then she had understood and offered to help. Her condition had been that he eventually told Neville, she didn't like keeping secrets from him.

After that it had gotten easier to sneak away for a night every month for treatment, Luna always having an excuse for his friends on where he was. It made it easier to bear the fact that he was dying, having her and, now that the war was really over he could tell him, soon Neville.

The hospital wings doors were open, on hanging slightly off its hinges, when he arrived. Poppy was seeing to a seventh year Ravenclaw that Harry remembered helping him with his homework sometimes when Hermione was busy. Luke Nash, that was his name. Harry noticed that over in the bed opposite Charlie Weasley was giving him appreciative looks. His eyes caught Harry's and at Poppy's "I'll just finish Mr Nash, and then I'll deal with you, Harry," headed over to talk to him.

Charlie grinned at him as he sat on the end of the bed and swung his legs up alongside his. "Hey, how's your leg?" Harry asked, bending one leg to lean his head on.

Charlie winced. "Madame Pomfrey fixed it up pretty good but I won't be able to work with dragons any more. The nerves were damaged making its reaction time slower and that can mean certain death around dragons." He sighed and his eyes strayed back to Luke.

Harry grinned. "His names Luke Nash, he is a seventh year muggleborn Ravenclaw, planning to be experimental charms master, he's bisexual and currently single," he said, chuckling at Charlie's stunned look. "He used to help me with his homework in the library when Hermione was busy."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because, big brother, you like him. You've been eyeing him up for months, I, unlike the rest of our oblivious siblings, am not blind. He also had a crush on you when he was in first year after you helped him find his class room on his second day," Charlie's eyes widened, "and has also been eyeing you up since we all came to stay in the castle." Harry burst out laughing at the look of surprise on his brother's face then winced.

"What's wrong?" Charlie asked, seeing his winced.

"Nothing," he replied, "just a bit saw, you try being hit with a killing curse." None of the Weasley's knew about his disease, neither did Remus, Sirius, Snape or Tonks, the last because she was terrible at keeping secrets from the teens.

"Harry!" Poppy called. He hopped of the bed, avoided Charlie's hand as it went to mess up his, for once, tidy hair and followed Poppy into the private room that was already set up. "Sit. Stay still."

She waved her wand for a general diagnostic first, as she always did. "Humph! You have a twisted wrist and the signs of Dragon Fever coming on." Harry groaned, not again, he's already had it twice. It was called that because you became very hot and snappish, your skin became immune to all spells and Fever Reducers didn't work. It wasn't dangerous but it was annoying as you had to get over it naturally.

Poppy tapped her wand on his left wrist and the swelling immediately went down and the slight twinge of pain went away. She then cast the progress spell for Humor Viscerum and then hocked him up to the magical drainage system that would drain the fluid as much as it could. Poppy left to go and take care of her patents and Harry let himself drift off to sleep.

He was shaken awake what felt minutes later. Rubbed his eyes and put on his glasses, sitting up. He focused on Poppy and saw her face. "Just tell me, Poppy," he sighed.

"It's started to break down the natural magical shields around your heart," she whispered. Harry flopped back onto the bed and stared the ceiling. He hadn't expected it this soon even if he hadn't died in the Final Battle. He had expected a few more years yet time at least to live outside of the war before he died. Now he only had a year, maybe not even that, before he would die, for good this time.

XXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXX xxxXX

They told the rest of the Order later that evening at the last Order meeting as a war front. Tonks wasn't there, she had been given Mrs Weasley's job of watching the kids, Sirius and Remus where with the twins, helping to fix certain parts of Hogwarts and Snape was in the hospital wing, recovering from Nagini's snake bite. They spent most of the meeting trying to think of ways to cure Harry.

Harry told Neville, with the help of Luna, in the next few weeks and slowly he got used to the thought of dying again and just got on with the restoration of Hogwarts. Neville was devastated but understood as well as his girlfriend had why he didn't want anyone else to know.

Finally, three days before it was to open for the school year, Hogwarts was back to her former glory. They had also hired new teaches to take over the ones that died.

Charlie was going to replace Hagrid as COM teacher for a year until he found a new carrier he wanted to pursue and Bill would take over Arithmancy as the professor had been badly injured and decided to retire. Penelope Clearwater was taking muggle studies. Flying lessons would be taken Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell. Lea Brian, a 27 year old runes master, took over Ancient Runes.

The official list of the dead went out in all new papers. Rita Skeeter tried getting an interview with Harry but he turned her down flat. After Hermione threatened to out her Animagus form she retired. Everyone on the list received a medal, whether it be bronze or silver and their family's received 40 galleons each.

Lucius Malfoy was sent to Azkaban, as although he had become a spy to save his son, he still joined willingly and committed the three unforgivables. His son was placed under Dumbledore's guardianship and Severus Snape was untouchable being Dumbledore's spy almost from the start.


	6. Chapter 3: The Start Of A Legacy

**29th June A/N Thank you to the people who pointed out that Molly and Arthur were dead, I really need a Beta. I was ill when I wrote most of this but I usually spot things like that. Oh well, fixed now.**

**A/N Hey my readers, I am sorry for the wait. But I've been real sick for a long time; we don't know what's wrong with me. Anyway, I was having a rough patch in said illness and mostly slept as I wasn't throwing up or in pain then.**

**Also, I ask again for you to visit my profile and vote on whether Harry lives or not. Only one person has so far so please, I want your opinion so I can finish my story draft. Oh and the reason I put in the article in this chapter is so you know, out of the main characters, who is dead and who is alive.**

**Hablar con ustedmás tarde,**

**Forgiving.**

Chapter 3—the start of a legacy

_**Dark Lord And Death Eaters Eating Death**_

_Yesterday evening half of Hogwarts was engaged in an violent battle to defend their school. All students from sixth and fifth year participated in the Defence of Hogwarts, whether on the light side or not. It started when a spy for the headmaster came running into the great hall, something the stoic slytherin had never been seen to do._

_He then informed the rest of the staff members that You—Know—Who had been secretly planning to invade Hogwarts with inside help. You—Know—Who was to attack with in the next hour. Dumbledore and Harry Potter, The—Boy—Who—Lived, took charge and assigned the fifth year student from all houses to keep all younger students within the common rooms and to defend them should it come to it._

_With the younger students safely out of harm's way headmaster Dumbledore secured the castle and asked for its help in defence. Statues and suits of armour left their posts to stand in defensive positions outside one the front lawn, soon to be battle field. Dumbledore, with Harry Potter at his side, then took up the lead defence positions. Not long after the wards of Hogwarts feel and the battle begun._

_It did come as a surprise that when I asked Headmaster Dumbledore how many Slytherin's fought for the light side he told me that over half of them had stood by their side to defend their school. Later, when I interviewed a few of these brave students, they told me that they would have been fighting as Death Eaters, whether they wished to or not, had it not been for our chosen one. They told me that Harry Potter had befriended them, and most of their parents, and had protected most from falling to You—Know—Who's clutches. Those who were marked had been so before he had acted._

_Eventually Harry Potter engaged You—Know—Who in a one to one battle. So focused were they on their epic struggle that neither noticed that the Death Eaters were falling, either to death or unconsciousness. There came a stand still when He—Who—Must—Not—Be—Nameds familiar, a poison—diamond snake, entered the battle. Harry Potter beheaded the snake and then, for unspecified reasons, burn both its head and body with fiendfire._

_This enraged You—Know—Who to point that he cast the killing curse at our savour and, again for reasons unspecified, he did not dodge but in fact seemed to step into the curse. Both side froze mid battle in shock of seeing Harry Potter die._

_That is not the end however, minutes later the chosen one once again stood and this time finished his opponent off with a simple disarming curse. You—Know—Who's own killing curse hit himself as his wand was blasted from his hand. Once they had confirmed that he was indeed dead they began to gather the dead and treat the wounded._

_Many died bravely last night and what follows is a list of those who did, both Death Eaters and Light fighters._

_From the light side;_

_Bathsheda Babbling by Rabastan Lestrange while trying to get her wounded co—worker to safety,_

_Cho Chang who died in vain as she protected her mortally injured, muggleborn boyfriend Michael Corner, from Bellatrix Lestrange,_

_Colin Creevey who died of intense blood loss from a werewolf bite,_

_Amos Diggory while he bravely protected three students while two of them attempted to get help for their dying friend,_

_Argos Filch died when attempting to save his beloved cat and was hit with a wayward curse,_

_Rolanda Hooch whose colleague died protecting her at the hand of Rabastan Lestrange,_

_both Ernie Macmillan and Zacharias Smith died protecting their pregnant girlfriend, Parvati Patil, from Rookwood and Thicknesse even after both had been bitten by Greyback,_

_Married couple Molly and Arthur Weasley both died, the husband covering Remus Lupin's back and being taken out by Greyback and the wife after killing in defence of her daughter._

_The light lost many more but most are either still unnamed or to mutated to recognise as the fighters begin to collect and identify the dead. As uncaring as I expect you are for the Death Eaters I am sure you wish to know who ended their miserable lives._

_Millicent Bulstrode, accidently killed by Hermione Granger and Geneva Weasley as they attempted to incapacitate her,_

_The Carrow sibling defeated respectively by Minerva McGonagall and Pomona Sprout,_

_Vincent Crabbe Sr, killed in retaliation by Light spy Lucius Malfoy for wounding his son,_

_Antonin Dolohov, defeated alongside the Carrow's by Filius Flitwick,_

_Goyle Sr, defeated by Lucius Malfoy,_

_Gregory Goyle, died from miscast fiendfire curse aim at Lucius Malfoy for killing his father._

_Fenrir Greyback, killed by Remus Lupin after he kills Colin Creevey and Arthur Weasley._

_Bellatrix Lestrange (née Black), killed by both Blaise Zabini and Molly Weasley after she injured Geneva Weasley,_

_Rabastan Lestrange, defeated by Remus Lupin defending his brother_

_Rodolphus Lestrange, defeated by Arthur Weasley for killing his wife,_

_Narcissa Malfoy (née Black), killed by Sirius Black as he tried to apprehend Peter Pettigrew to formally prove his innocence,_

_Peter Pettigrew, was cornered by Sirius Black when the metal hand bestowed on him by He—Who—Must—Not—Be—Named after he gave his own for his master, turned on him and strangled him,_

_Augustus Rookwood, killed by Padma Patil and Lavender Brown for killing their pregnant sister and friend, Parvati Patil,_

_Pius Thicknesse, killed by the combined efforts of Kinsley Shacklebolt and Amelia Bones,_

_Yaxley, killed by Tonks after wounding her fiancé Kinsley Shacklebolt._

_A formal list of the dead will be posted after all are known at the communal wake in October._

_Written by Rita Skeeter._

* * *

Harry appeared with a soft crack. He looked around at the familiar street as he walk up the front path and couldn't help but shiver. Grimmauld place's neighbourhood had always creped him out even if he had spent a lot of time there in the past year. He didn't bother knocking; the door opened to magical signatures.

He stopped in shock in the door way, the door shutting behind him. "Did I walk in to the wrong house?" he asked himself. The walls had been painted a pleasant light blue colour and the threadbare carpet replaced with wooden boards. The old chandelier had been removed and now a beautiful light fixture with four animals carved in to the glass lit the hallway. The age blackened portraits had been removed and replaced with various members of the order, past and present. Mrs Black's portrait was gone and in its place was Moody's photograph of the old Order, enlarged to fit the frame.

The sound of laughter made him jump and he had his wand in hand and a curse on his lips before he even managed to register that he was no longer in danger. He lowered his wand and looked sheepish at his godfather.

Sirius chuckled at him, "Sorry, I forgot you don't like to be startled." Harry waved him off and transfigured his cloak into a jumper, as was his custom. "And no, you didn't walk into the wrong house, we've been busy while you were gone." Sirius scrutinized him. "Where have you been?"

"Godric's Hollow," Harry answered, walking towards the kitchen. Sirius grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into a hug that Harry couldn't help but melt into.

"What have you been doing at Godric's Hollow?" he asked as Harry pulled away.

"I had it fixed up and new wards put up, Albus was helping me. he should be here in a few hours, he's dealing with one of Dennis Creevey's emotional fits." Dennis hadn't been the same since his brother died and often had major bouts of depression that, if left long enough to stew, would eventually lead to self-harm.

"Ah, you planning to move in there when you finish school?" Sirius asked as they paused in front of the kitchen door.

"Sort of," Harry replied and before Sirius could ask what he meant Harry opened the kitchen door and walked in.

"Harry!" Harry just had time to balance his weight before he had an arm full of brown and red haired witch.

"Ginny, Hermione," Harry said as he wiggled out of their grip. "Stop now or you boys will think there's something going on," he winked at them and everyone laughed as both girls and their admires blushed bright red. He smirked at Blaise and Ron then dodged a hug from Pansy, "Sorry Pansy, no hugs today, I bruised my ribs when I tried to enter the Hollow." He rubbed them and winced. It wasn't just his ribs that were saw he needed to see Poppy and get his meds.

"Oh, Harry, sit down, eat and I'm sure Severus will give you some ointment for it afterwards," Pansy, who Harry was sure was trying to take Mrs Wesley's place, pushed him gently into a chair and placed a full plate in front of him. They were surprised when Harry took one look at it and bolted from his chair.

Harry knew he really needed to see Poppy now. Nausea was a bad sign and when he actually threw up into the sink he knew that he needed his meds. He looked up from the sink and caught Moody's eye.

"She's going to kill you when she sees you," Moody informed him before moving to the floo. "Hogwarts hospital wing," he called into the flames. "Poppy, it's Harry-" he was obviously cut off as he stumbled out of the way and Poppy stepped through the flames.

She took one look at him and dragged him back through the fire. "Harry, what have I told you about skipping doses," Poppy snapped at him as she lead him to 'his' room in the hospital wing.

It was a strange shaped room, sort of like the shape of a house. Should you look at it from a bird eye view it would appear that the door was at the bottom of the shape. His bed was against the left side wall when you entered, along with a bedside table and a small book shelf for if Harry was there for more than a few hours. A desk sat facing the wall on the same side of the room where it started to slant. It wasn't that big, only about three metres horizontal and seven length ways. It was about head height for Hagrid.

"I didn't Poppy, Albus made sure I didn't. The only dose I haven't had is todays and that's only because I need to get the next set from you," Harry explained.

Poppy humphed and cast the usual charms. "How are the repairs coming along?" she asked as they waited. "I know it's where you wanted to…"

"Yeah, I wanted to end it where it started," Harry said softly. "And we're almost done, Albus had some of the house-elf's help, the only place we haven't done is the room where…" Harry trailed as Poppy nodded her head understandingly. They talked with each other for the next half an hour while they waited for the results.

When they appeared Poppy looked through them, looking grim. She sighed and looked down at Harry. "Harry, you can't go back to Grimmuald. It seems you body has been relying on the school wards and sentient magic to keep your medication working. As you haven't really left since your fifth year, I should have expected it."

"So no family Christmas for me," Harry said.

"And Harry, because of it, the disease is speeding up in killing you. I'd say you just lost about two months if you don't leave the wards for more than 12 hours."

"What shall I tell the others, Poppy?" Moody's voice made them both jump and both had their wands trained on him in seconds. "I only got here a few minutes ago," he told them. "So, what shall I tell them?"

"Tell them I've got a contagious muggle illness that should go away by the end of the holidays and that Poppy is keeping me in for observation," Harry suggested. Moody grunted. "I suppose I better make myself comfortable then," Harry sighed.

Poppy chuckled. "I'm going to call this room the Potter ward room," she told him seriously, "You practically live in here." Harry shook his head at her and decided to catch up on his sleep. "Oh, and Moody, tell kingsley and Dora congratulations," he murmured as he fell asleep.

* * *

"The boy seems to have picked up a muggle illness," Moody said the moment he had exited the floo. "He's contagious and Poppy wants to keep him in for observation in case she has someone else with the same illness. It won't be out of his system till a few days after the holidays." He sat down and ignored the load complaints from the children (he included Sirius in that category).

"Be quite, there is nothing we can do," Hestia Jones snapped. She, and the rest of the order who knew, looked worried. "Why don't we go upstairs and sort out that library, make sure all the Dark books gone before tomorrow," Luna suggested when they went to argue. Sirius frowned, sensing he wasn't being told something.

"Sirius, Remus, Severus, Nymphadora, will you please go and supervise," McGonagall ordered, they all obeyed. The moment the door had closed, Kinsley set up all their normal wards and more to keep them from spying.

"How is he?" Filius asked softly.

"He now can't leave Hogwarts. His body and magic are relying on the magic and wards of the school. Poppy thinks that his body is trying to use the excess magic to cure itself of the disease. Of course it's not working but by leaving he just… well he just lost another 2 months of his life," Moody said sadly, nearly whispering the last part

"When?" someone asked.

"He originally had until January," Everyone froze, "Not this January. Next January. But now he's expected to be around October/November." McGonagall sobbed and Kingsley tried to comfort her; Hestia and Emmeline both hugged each other as they silently cried.

"Does he plan on telling the other's soon?" McKenzie Macintosh, one of the newer member's of the order asked.

"He planned on telling Nymphadora this holiday. He doesn't plan on telling the others until he gets too weak to go to class," Albus said as he stepped out of the fireplace. "What's going on?" Moody quickly filled him in and Albus's smile disappeared.

"Oh," Moody said as he remembered, "Harry said to congratulate Kingsley and Nymphadora." He shrugged at the rest's confused gazes.

"I don't know how he does it," Kingsley muttered as he stood. He removed the wards from the door and yelled for his fiancé. There was a crack and Tonks Apparated into the kitchen.

"What's up, secret meeting over now?" she asked.

"Harry sent his congratulations," Kingsley said with a roll of his eyes. Tonks laughed. "Do you want to tell them, Nym?" Tonks nodded with a bright smile.

"I'm pregnant," she told them, "I don't know how he knew but," she shrugged. A mixture of happy exclamations followed. "So do I get to know what the secret meetings are for?" everyone shifted.

"Harry was going to tell her anyway," Moody grunted. They gently explained everything and by the time they had finished she was sobbing heavily into Kingsley's shirt and had to be given a calming draught.

Suddenly the fire flared green and, to everyone's shock, Harry stepped out. Everyone pointed their wands at him but he said calmly, "My Patronus is a stag, my mother's middle name was Flora and I am currently dying of Humour Visairoma." They all lowered their wands. "Poppy let me come for a few hours; I can stay away for about 12. I really can't stand looking at nothing but white for the next few days." Everyone but Tonks laughed. She threw herself into his arms and began to sob again. "What's the matter pretty nymph?"

"You're dying! It's not fair after you went through all that only to die in the end," she wailed.

"Dora, we all die in the end," he said gently, "Now calm down, your harm the baby."

"That's another thing, how did you know we only found out yesterday," Tonks said angrily.

Harry chuckled. "I looked on the Black tapestry last week; I was waiting for you to find out." Tonks stomped her foot angrily but Harry just pecked her on the cheek, undid the wards around the room and walked up the stairs. "I'm just getting a few things," he called over his shoulder.

"That boy," Albus said, laughing.

* * *

"Harry I thought…" Harry put up his hands to keep them away.

"I'm still ill and contagious but Madame P let me come and get some stuff," He grinned mischievously. "Don't happen to have any paint lying around do you?" he asked Sirius, who snapped out of staring at Remus to look at him.

"I think we've got some of every colour, we did each room a different colour," he said in bemusement. Harry's grin became wider. He held out his wand and wordlessly summoned all the paint in the house. He shrunk it all and placed it in the rucksack he had over one shoulder.

"I'll get my presents after I come out of quarantine," he said over his should, he couldn't take much more of the tension in that room. As he reached the bottom of the stairs Sirius yelled, "What are you going to do with that paint?!" Harry didn't answer just walked into the kitchen and to the fire place, "Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and blah, blah, blah," He said as he stepped into the flames.

* * *

"Morning Ha—ah! What have you done?" Poppy shouted as she came in with his breakfast the next morning. She stared in shock at her previously white room. It was now a neutral blue colour as a back drop, with a different mural done on each wall.

One of the walls, the one that held the door, showed Harry fighting Quirrell in front of the Mirror of Erised, his parents shown in the mirror. The one opposite the door showed two murals, Harry on his broom during the match in second year, being followed then hit by the bludger and Lockhart trying to heal him and him fighting the basilisk and destroying the diary. The wall that his bed sat against also held two pictures, the dementors causing him to fall off his broom and then attacking him and Sirius at the lake and him casting his Patronus on the other side of the lake. On the opposite wall were several pictures, four around the edges and the main one in the centre. Each of the ones around the edge was a task from the tournament and the Yule ball with the middle picture him duelling Voldemort in the graveyard, Priori Incantatem included. The last wall, the one that held the desk, was of the night of the night of the ministry, including the duel between Dumbledore and Voldemort. The ceiling and floor were both still white but Poppy had a feeling they wouldn't be by the end of Harry's stay. All of them were wizarding pictures.

"You said that this room was going to be named after me, so I decided to decorate," Harry said grinning. Poppy looked ready to scream at him but then she just shook her head, smiling tightly, handed him his breakfast and left. "Well that was weird," he said to the air as he sat back down on his bed. He looked at his breakfast and, as a habit, cast all the spells that Moody had taught him to check his food. When they all came back negative he dug in.

When finished he tapped his wand to the plate and it disappeared to the kitchens. He turned back to the mass of paper on his pillow and pulled his most recent plan towards him.

_Plan to set all my friends/family up with partners_

_First step is to check that my observations are right. I don't want to hurt someone by setting them up with someone who doesn't like them_

_Charmed parchment to, once touched by a person, tell that persons love interest and whether single. School owls are delivering as we speak and Kreacher has agreed to collect them and bring them to me._

_Second step, make plan for each couple._

_Ron & Hermione_

_Spike them with an aphrodisiac and let them do the rest._

_Ginny & Blaise_

_Talk one of the teachers into giving both detentions with Filch. Use blackmail on Filch to make them clean on of the spare bedrooms. Lock them inside with Winky to look after them. Spell the door so that they can only come out when the have at least kissed._

_Pansy & Terry_

_Use flowers as messages, both know fluorography._

_Severus & Draco_

_Invest in peeves help. Have him move their things to each other's rooms after they have been soaked in a skin contact truth serum. Make sure it is legal. Then lock them in a room together and let them do the rest._

_Remus & Sirius_

_Use potion that enhances natural emotions. Evaporate it so that it cannot be traced. Lock room and make sure Kreacher knows not to let them out._

Harry thought it was pretty good so far. He glanced at the pieces of parchment that Kreacher had dropped off yesterday and read through the two that interested him the most.

_Fredrick Fabien Weasley- currently in a soul bond with George Gideon Weasley and in love with their chosen third, Harry James Potter._

_George Gideon Weasley- currently in a soul bond with Fredrick Fabien Weasley and in love with their chosen third, Harry James Potter._

Well, that was interesting.

* * *

Harry watched from the hospital wings window as the rest of Hogwarts population milled about on the platform, heading for the carriages. Poppy had informed him he couldn't go to the feast and that he had to wait two days before he could see his friends to keep up the story of him being ill.

He stood when the last carriage pulled out of site and walked back into his room. He'd finally painted the floor with the scene of the last battle and the ceiling with the scene of the DA session where they had been working on Patronuses. He spent a lot of time watching that scene, he was starting to get weaker and weaker and his medication was at its highest dose.

Harry, knowing that time was short, had already invested in Peeves help to bring all of Draco's cloths to him during the feast. He then had nearly headless nick spread a rumour that Peeves was planning a prank on all the Slytherin's, something about dung bombs in their common room. He had, however, given instructions that the rumour was not to reach either of his targets ears.

When Nick had questioned him, he had told the ghost the truth but told him that he couldn't tell anyone else.

All he had to do now was wait.

* * *

Peeves floated through the wall of the Slytherin common room and up to the seventh year's dorm. He picked up the suitcase of his intended target and zoomed up to the hospital wing. "Oh, Potter," he called as he entered. Harry stuck his head out of the door of his room and Peeves flew in and dropped the trunk on his bed. "I'll be back to place them in an hour," Peeves told him, then flew down, grabbed Harry's glasses and swooped out of the room.

Harry only rolled his eyes and cast a temporary vision correction spell so he could see. He opened the trunk and pulled the potion and brush towards him. He pulled out all of the solid objects and brushed the truth serum over them. He then placed them back after waiting for them to dry and pulled out the clothes. He soaked them in the potion then cast a drying charm to quickly dry them out. He placed them back in the exact position he found them and closed the lid again. He poured the rest of the potion over the suitcase and used a cloth to spread it all over the surface.

"Oh, Potter, you plotter, oh what will you do? You're matching up students, it's all in good fun," Peeves voice floated from behind him and Harry laughed.

"Peeve's, will you take this to Professor Snapes rooms?" Harry asked as he turned around. Peeves swooped down and grabbed the handle. "Thanks, and yes I'll provide you with the dung bombs you need to do the Slytherin common room tomorrow." Peeves gave a wicked grin and flew from the room.

Harry sighed, "I hope this works."

* * *

Draco walked into his dorm room, wondering why none of his house mates were around. He stopped in the door way when he noticed his trunk was missing. "Blaise," he growled. They may be best friends but sometimes Blaise's pranks went too far. He huffed and stomped of to see if Severus would let him borrow something until Blaise saw fit to return them.

He knocked on the tapestry concealed door. "Come in." Draco pulled the tapestry to one side and opened the door. Severus stood scowling at something on his sofa. "What it is?" Draco asked as he moved in to the room. He froze in confusion the blurted, "Why do you have my trunk?"

Severus turned to him. "I don't know why or that it was even yours," he said. "What did you want, Draco?"

"To ask if I could borrow something to wear," Draco said slightly bemused. "I thought that Blaise had moved my stuff," he said to Severus's inquiring look.

"Hmm, well," Severus mumbled, "Mr Zabini does not know where my quarters are so it could not have been him. Now, would you like me to help you carry your things back your dorm?" Draco nodded and Severus levitated his trunk out into the corridor. They both followed in its wake.

"So, what's it like to finally be free?" Draco asked as they walked.

"I don't really know," he replied hesitantly. "I haven't had a chance to really live my freedom yet. How is Lucius?"

"Father is…understanding. He does want to get out but without the dementors there, it's just boredom that's driving him insane," Draco chuckled. "He does miss everyone, though. I'm not even allowed to visit." Draco pouted slightly and didn't see a small flush appear on his companions cheeks. They drew nearer the common room and the levitation spell dropped as they passed the magic dampener. Severus reached forward to take the trunk but Draco beat him to it. He lifted it, struggling through the common room entrance and up the stairs. "Draco, you should let…"

"It's alright, I can do it from here," Draco replied, blushing.

It was such an unusual sight to see any Malfoy, let alone Draco, blush that he had to ask, "Why are you blushing?"

Draco didn't even seem to think before he said, "There's something in my dorm I don't want you to see." He slapped his hand to his mouth. Severus's eyes narrowed.

"What don't you want me to see?"

"My drawings," Draco mumbled behind his hand. His eyes widened and he squeaked in embarrassment turning and starting up the stair before the next-

"What's in those drawings that you don't want me to see?"

Draco gasped and spun around, standing like a rabbit caught in the headlights as he answered, "They're pictures of you."

Severus smirked. "And?"

Miserably Draco whispered, "There what I imagine you look like naked."

Severus's eyes narrowed, "Bring them to me." Draco shook his head frantically as he backed up the stairs, Severus following him. He backed Draco against the wall and leaned down slightly, they were nearly the same height now, and whispered in his ear, "Why have you drawn pictures of what you think I look like naked?"

Draco shuddered and whimpered slightly. "I'm in love with you."

"Good," he whispered before he kissed the younger man. It was gentle but needy, passionate but tender all at once. But most of all it was loving. Draco wrapped his arms around Severus's neck as he wrapped his own around Draco's waist. There was no tongue involved but it still sent zaps of pleasure through both men.

The pulled away slowly, letting the kiss wind down naturally. Severus placed his head on top of Draco's as they both caught their breath. "Wow," gasped Draco as he rested his head on the taller man's chest. Severus made a sound of agreement before pulling away.

He began to walk down the stairs calling over his shoulder, "You shall be taking up residence with me, I like to keep my partners close." Draco ran down the stairs and found his soon-to-be-lover with his trunk already making his way out of the common room. The moment they stepped outside the magic dampening wards Severus levitated the trunk to follow behind them.

"Where do you think the rest the house is?" Draco asked.

"I have no idea," Severus said and Draco could hear the suspicion in his voice. Severus stopped short and turned to Draco, suddenly serious. "Draco, I need to know if you're okay with this? That I'm not moving too fast for you?"

Almost immediately Draco answered, "I really want this, Sev. You're not moving too fast."

His eyes narrowed before he shouted. "Someone's gave me a truth potion!" Severus sighed as they began walking again and Draco continued to mutter angrily. He unlocked his rooms and then pulled Draco into his lap.

"It doesn't matter," he told his younger partner. "I am the only on here and I hope you can trust me with whatever you say."

"I do," Draco murmured, wiggling in Severus's lap to make himself more comfortable. Severus moaned and his hands flew to grip Draco's hips. Said man smirked and moved his hips again, leaning forward to whisper in his lovers ear. "Do you like that? Do you want me to keep going? Or shall I stop?"

Severus moaned again and stood, Draco automatically wrapped his legs around the taller man. Severus stumbled into his bedroom and lowered Draco to the bed. He pulled the older ma with him and his head closer so they could kiss. Unlike their first it was passionate and filled with urgency.

Severus nipped at his lovers lips and groaned when his mouth opened, slipping his tongue into the others mouth. "Draco, are you sure you want to do this?" he asked as he pulled away briefly.

"Yes, now please, please, don't stop," Draco moaned, thrusting his hips up.

"Whoever gave you that potion, we owe them the rest of our lives," Severus murmured as he pulled Draco t-shirt over his head and bent to suck a nipple into his mouth. Draco moaned his agreement and that was all either said for a while.

* * *

"Oh, Rotter," Peeves called later that night, stirring Harry from his sleep.

"What do you want Peeve's?" he mumbled as he stretched and sat.

"Your little plan worked by the lovely noises coming from the bedroom," Peeves singsonged, lifting up a recording device that Harry had unwillingly given him last year to spy on the Slytherin's.

"And you have enough blackmail on the potions professor to last a life time, couldn't this have waited till morning," he whined. Peeves only cackled and zoomed from the room making Harry groan and snuggle back into the quilt. He coughed lightly and leaned over the side of the bed to spit the mucus into the bucket he kept by his bed.

Then he turned over and reached for his wand, casting a summoning charm on a separate recorder that seemed to appear from thin air. He cackle lightly, Peeves wasn't the only one to have blackmail material only his was to be pay back for the four and a half year of torture from the two on the tape. He place it in his draw before snuggling back into the blankets.

He was far too tired to think much more.

* * *

**A/N So, what do you think? I'm not normally one to ask for reviews but this time I want to know what you think, especially about the news article, so please review. And, yes, the characters in this story will mostly be OOC as I think the war would change them.**

**Bye,**

**Forgiving.**


	7. Chapter 4- Secrets and Seduction

**A/N Thanks for all the reviews in the last few chapters. I only just got round to checking my email and discovered that I had ten reviews and just under forty follows and favourites. I was checking in the school library and gave everyone a heart attack when I saw this and that I have over 25 reviews and ninety-five follows and favourites cause I started squealing so loud. Anyway, hope you like this chapter, there will be some Fred/Harry/George moments but I marked them for those who don't want to read them.**

**Adeus! Aproveite e reveja,**

**Forgiving**

* * *

**Chapter 4- Secrets and Seduction **

The first thing Harry heard when he walked into the great hall on the first Thursday after the Christmas holidays was Hermione shouting "Harry!" She then ran up the isle and launched herself into his arms. "We missed you! Christmas isn't the same without you and you've still got all your presents to open! And the twins decided to come live here, they said that they wanted to be close to they're family and—"

"Breath, Hermione," Harry told her, cutting of her nervous and happy babble. "I know the twins are back in the castle, P—Madam Pomfrey told me. And I'm sure we can arrange for everyone to stop back at Grimmauld this weekend so that I can receive and open my gifts."

Hermione grinned then blushed slightly as Ron came up behind her. She let go of Harry and stepped back as if burned. Harry tried, he really did but he could not help chuckling at them. Ron was looking slightly jealous as he said "Harry, mate, you feeling better?"

"Yeah, I'm only allowed liquids for a few days though, to give my throat a chance to heal from all that throwing up," Harry pulled a face and Ron laughed. Hermione dragged them both back over to the Gryffindor table and practically force fed Harry some Tomato soup. "Hermione, I'm full," he finally complained when she tried to give him a fourth helping.

"Hermione, you're acting like mum," Ginny said, tearing her eyes away from the Slytherin table. "Leave him alone." Hermione looked slightly appalled at being compared to the Weasley mother and stopped trying to get Harry to eat more. "So, Harry," Ginny said turning to him. "What did you use the paint for?"

Harry grinned, "I'll show you all later," he said.

"Harry James Potter!" Harry ducked under the table as Poppy stormed into the hall. "Get out from under that table and remove that sticking charm from your room this instant!" Harry crawled up the table while she ranted, avoiding touching anyone. "I said, come out of there!" Harry did as she said, only at the end of the table near the door and ran for it before anyone noticed.

"See you later, guys," he called over his shoulder as he ran out the door, making everyone turn to him. They gaped for a few seconds before everyone, even Poppy, laughed. Harry was already up on the first floor, so didn't hear it. He felt his chest tighten and stopped to catch his breath. He had a feeling that he would have to give up quiddich soon and was not happy about it.

"Harry!" He turned round and came face to face with Fred and George. "Didn't die then?" Fred asked.

Harry suppressed a wince and answered, "Nah, if I died I wouldn't get to see your pretty faces again."

"Oh, we are not pretty," George said, hands on hips pretending to be mad.

"Devilishly handsome, maybe, but we are not female," Fred sniffed, mimicking his twin.

"Beautiful then," Harry grinned. The twins pounced one him and began to tickle him.

"We'll teach you," they said together as Harry gasped for breath.

"Ok, ok, your handsome, please stop," Harry gasped as he felt his chest tighten to dangerous proportion. The moment they let go he curled up on the floor then straightened to lie on his back, knowing it was dangerous to constrict the chest when you couldn't breathe. He ignored the twins worried inquires and concentrated on remembering how to breath, concentrated on life. Finally, he could breathe again, let the air into his lungs, had dislodged the horrid mucus from his lungs. And now he needed to spit.

He stood and shot down the hallway, to the bathroom he knew was there. He spat the disgusting fluid into the sink and washed his mouth out, to rid himself of the taste. He looked at the mirror and wondered how anyone could think that he was alright when he was a yellowish pale, with blood shot eyes looking as if he had not slept for days even though he had only been awake a few hours. He didn't feel like had had slept at all.

"Harry, should you go back to the hospital wing?" Fred's voice made him jump and he looked over his shoulder in the mirror to see both men standing a watching in the doorway.

"No," he told them, "I'm fine, just over eaten; Hermione was practically force feeding me lunch." They didn't look like they believed him but they didn't force him as the rest of his friends would. He thought that they understood him better than most. "Anyway, what was it you wanted?" he dried his face and walked towards them.

"Are the rumours true?" George asked.

"What rumours?" Harry asked, the little worry that someone would find out, that someone would discover he was dying and tell the rest of the school. The worry that all he would get was sympathy, as he had from the adults. "I've been in the hospital wing; you're going to have to update me on the latest gossip."

"This rumour started in October, Ginny told us about it," Fred said. Harry mentally ran through all of the rumours that had started about him in October and realise it was the one about him being gay. Kieki Chang, Cho's little sister had started it in revenge for breaking her sisters heart. It hadn't bothered him, if only because it was true.

"I guess you'll have to find out," Harry said grinning.

**…Harry and the twins scene, for those who don't want to read it…**

He went to leave, pushing past the twins. One of them grabbed his arm before he could push the door open and swung him round. He found himself with his back against the door facing the unusually serious twins. Fred's arm had moved from his own and was now flat palmed against the door, stopping Harry from being able to escape that way.

"We want, need to know, Harry," George said while Fred pulled him away from the door and stepped behind him. Harry found himself inches from George's lips and felt arousal shot him. He tried to swallow the whimper that rose in his throat but Fred pulled him back slightly, so that he could feel his chest against his back. The whimper escaped, he felt high with the twins being so dominant.

Poppy had told him once that he was a rare type of wizard, a natural submissive; he had the birthmark to prove it, which held a lot of power. Poppy hadn't looked, but had a suspicion that he would carry the Carriers Mark; a mark that meant the wizard was able to carry a child, to become pregnant.

The twins heard him and smirked. "What does Harry want?" Fred whispered in his ear. "Does he want us to stop? To move away and let him escape?" Harry couldn't take his eyes of Georges lips, he felt like he was going to pass out as they curved into a smirk. He swallowed a whine when Fred spoke, followed by a keening sound when Fred's hand held onto his waist. "Or does Harry want us to kiss him?"

Harry did whine at that, a soft, begging whine that he thought the twins couldn't hear. He was wrong. "Does Harry want me to kiss him?" George purred, stepping closer so that he was centimetres away. Harry whined loader, he couldn't speak to answer, his aroused high making it hard to think. "I think that's a yes," George breathed and closed the small space between their lip's. Harry's knees gave out as the pleasure running through his blood like fire short-circuited his brain.

Fred caught him and pulled him back against his chest. He began to trail kisses and nips along his neck, causing Harry to moan and keen. He was delirious with pleasure and when George swiped his tongue against hi bottom lip, he open his mouth without thinking. The moment their tongues touched, Harry keened, long, loud and animalistic. He felt the heat in his blood redirect and moaned within the keen.

He whined when George pulled away. Fred found a sensitive spot on his neck and he nearly forgot that he wanted those lips when he bit down, hard. Harry's hips bucked and he gasped as he brushed Georges own hard on. He whimpered again when George held his hips still, stopping him from creating more friction and there for more pleasure.

Suddenly his head was roughly pulled to the side and Fred took advantage of his gasp to immediately slip his tongue into his mouth. Harry felt George take Fred's position on his neck, only on the opposite side. He keened loudly again when George also began to mark him, sucking on the skin. Once he had finished he licked it, then a trail up his neck and joined his brother in plundering Harry's mouth. He gave one last moan before he came, untouched, and then he blacked out.

**…You can look now but you might not want to bother cause there´s something in a minute…**

He didn't feel the twins slowly lower him to the floor and rest his head in Fred lap. He didn't feel the cleaning spell remove the evidence of his pleasure. And he didn't see the happy, smug faces of the twins. All he saw was blackness.

"I think the rumours true," Fred murmured happily. He hadn't felt this complete since before his and Georges hormones kicked in and they began to feel the Pull of finding someone else to join their bond.

They'd never intentionally chosen Harry, in fact they hadn't even realised they had until he had faced the dragon and felt the jealousy of seeing him asking out the Chang girl for the ball. They didn't even know how it happened, only that it had. they had been feeling the Pull stronger this year and that was the main reason they had returned to Hogwarts. They had heard a rumour about how Harry potter was gay from Lee Jordan, who's little sister had started this year and had needed to confirm it, needed to know if they had a chance with their Chosen. So to have him here, in their arms having just kissed him unconscious, was bliss.

When he began to stir, he moved his head from side to side, making Fred have to bite his lip to stop from groaning. His head was rubbing his aching cock and even through his trousers it felt good. George, seeing his brother's predicament, decided to rouse him up further and leaned over for a steamy kiss.

That was what Harry woke up to and he couldn't help but watch in fascination as they passionately kissed each other. He moaned quietly when he saw a flash of tongue and felt Fred and George chuckle. The pulled away from each other and looked down at him. "Do you like that?" Fred bent down near his ear and whispered.

"Do you like watching us kiss?" George joined in the torment, making Harry light headed again.

"Do you want to see more?"

"See us kiss,"

"See us sucking each other,"

"See us 'playing together,"

"See us fucking each other," the finished together and Harry moaned.

"You are a true submissive, aren't you?" George asked. Harry stiffened slightly, the last person he had told what he was had wanted to use him. He hadn't let her but that did not mean he was not afraid of having someone who he couldn't stop. "We would never hurt you, Harry, never could. It is the nature of bond me and Fred have, the bond that we hope you will join one day."

"But until then, we have given you something to think about," Fred said standing and forcing Harry to sit up. George joined his twin and they smirked down at Harry's dazed expression. They both bent down to kiss his cheek. "We will see you later, Our Chosen," Fred murmured as he stood, George echoing him. They both turned and began to walk away, trying to ignore the small whine that rose from their Chosen's throat.

Harry watched them go, whining for them to return, to make him feel good again, to make him feel loved. But they didn't, they didn't even turn to look at him. Slowly, his awareness returned, long after the twins had left. But he was not happy, as he had thought he would be. No he felt as if his heart had just been ripped out of his chest. He never though the twins would be that cruel. Slowly he stood and moved, walking on autopilot towards the ROR. Anyone who saw him would later say he looked like and living ghost, he was so pale.

He didn't even notice when he arrived at the room. He didn't even notice what he had requested of the room until he sunk into a large armchair, big enough for Hagrid to sit in. He curled up and looked around. It looked like his death room, as he had called the place, at Godric's Hollow. Above him, in the centre of the ceiling, was the Hogwarts crest. Each of the four walls were paint light shades of the Hogwarts house colours, with their animal reprehensive painted in the second house colours in the centre. A large bed sat in one corner and several chairs were scattered around the room, just as they were at Godric's Hollow.

His gaze came to rest on something that wasn't at the Hollow. A small curved knife sat on a table in front of him, glinting invitingly. He shook his head and look away from it, instead looking up an staring at the Hogwarts logo.

He never thought that the twins would play him. He was sure that they wouldn't. The potion had said that they were in love with him and so did the way that they spoke. So why had they kissed him, brought him to his first climax and then left with just a goodbye, leaving him in an aroused and dangerously submissive state.

It hurt, it felt like he was back with his aunt and uncle again. When they had found out he was ill, they hadn't cared. Sure, they gave him his medication, most of the time anyway, and took him to hospital for treatment but Harry could just tell they were waiting, hoping he would drop dead. When he had returned for the last of his stuff at the end of fifth year, he had found that the Dursleys had binned most of it and Dudley's friend, Piers, was now sleeping in their as his family had gone away for the summer. It had hurt, even though Harry should have expected it, that they had cared so little.

He shook thoughts of his 'family' away and concentrated on figuring out the twins. He hadn't actually expect them to make a move, hadn't wanted them to until they did. He had been content to leave things as they were, friends, so that he wouldn't hurt them more when he died. Now he was torn. If the twins weren't playing with him and just using him for the bond to feel complete, then he wanted to see where this would go. On the other hand, he didn't want to hurt them and he definitely couldn't complete the bond with them, they would most probably become as ill as him after he died and follow him to 'the next big adventure' as Albus put it.

He needed to think. He looked down again saw that the knife had disappeared. In its place now stood Dumbledore's Pensieve and Harry briefly wondered how the castle had got it. But that thought was pushed to the back of his mind, first he needed to figure out this mess, then he could wonder about the secrets of Hogwarts.

* * *

**A/N Wow, I really did not mean for it to go in this direction. I actually meant to have Harry flirt with the twins, them find out he was gay from Ginny then Harry tells all of his friends about being 'ill' over the Christmas holidays and show's them what he did to his hospital room. Oh well, can't help where the muses take me I suppose.**

**My updates may pick up over the summer holidays so keep an eye out. And I know this isn't as long as it should be but with the end of term approaching and getting ready to go into year eleven I've barley had time to get to my laptop, even the computers at school.**


	8. Chapter 5: Avoidance and Giving

**A/N Sorry for the long wait for this chapter. I already explained but for those of you who are new to this story (I still can't believe that I'm still getting followers) I had to have laptop fixed. I also decided that I would get all my holiday course work done and out of the way. Anyway, this was written on the family computer that's ancient, so if there's anything I missed when going through to check for mistakes, please let me know.**

**Now the not so long awaited chapter 5,**

**Forgiving.**

* * *

Chapter five- Avoidance and Giving

Harry stayed in the Room of Requirement for the rest of the day, calling Dobby for lunch. He finally emerged for dinner, knowing he would worry his friends is he stayed away any longer. He used his invisibility cloak to get to the entrance hall then slipped into a cupboard to put it away.

He walked in and sat down next to Ginny, who didn't notice at first as she was, once again, starring at the Slytherin table. When she did, she noticed that he looked a bit pale but was distracted by Ron and Hermione sitting down opposite them, bickering about Ron's study habits.

"Honestly, Ron," Hermione said, "I really think you should give up Quidditch, your having enough trouble keeping up with your homework now, imagine what it will be like when we need to revise on top of that."

"But Hermione," Ron whined. "If I quit, then the team will need to find a new keeper and they don't have time to train another one. Besides, I'd rather fly than study." Ron began to fill his plate while Hermione seemed to being trying to control her temper.

"Ron!" Hermione yelled when it didn't work. "You want to be an Auror. To get into the training program you need five Newt's in-"

"Hermione, they've already offered me a place as long as I get an Exceeds Expectations in DADA and Potions," Ron said. Hermione stared at him. "What?"

"When did this happen?" Ginny asked, joining in the conversation. The pair looked jumped and looked over as if only just realising where they were.

"Oh, during the Christmas holidays. Kingsley told me when we arrived."

"See, you still need to study," Hermione said. "You need to get your grade up in potions, at the moment you're at Acceptable. And I think you should still the quit the team, you may not complete the Auror course, only about ten percent do you know, so you need other options."

"What about Harry, why are you only picking on me?" Ron whined.

His distraction worked and Hermione turned to Harry. "There's no need to shout at me, I've already handed in my resignation and captains badge. Either Ginny or you should be receiving it any day now," Harry said without looking up from pushing his food about his plate. All three stared at him for a minute before Ron exploded.

"YOU DID WHAT?"

Everyone turned to look at them. "You resigned as Captain and quit the team! Are you mental?! How are we meant to win the cup now?! Why?!" Ron continued to shout and every mouth in the hall dropped open in shock while the teachers watched sadly from the head table.

"I need to concentrate on my NEWT'S Ron," Harry said quietly, pushing away from the table. "I'll see you in the common room," he muttered as he walked away just as the twins approached. He dodged them and practically sprinted from the hall.

"Did we hear that right?" one of the twins asked.

"Harry's resigned from the Quidditch team and given up his captaincy?" the other asked.

"That's what he just told us," Ginny said faintly. She frowned. "Is it me or has his attitude changed since this morning?"

"Mmm," Hermione said, thinking about it. "I think your right. Come to think of it, I haven't seen him since breakfast. I wonder what happened." The twins shared a look but no one noticed. Everyone finished his meal and headed up to the common room to find Harry curled up in his normal armchair by the fire, reading a book.

He looked up at them when they approached, "Hey." Hermione and Ginny went to sit but Harry shook his head and stood himself. "I told everyone else to meet at the ROR after dinner," he explained,

They traded looks, he still seemed upset and Ginny noticed he was still pale. He avoid the twins as he walk towards the portrait hole, slipping his map out as he walked. He stopped and stared at the map and the others moved to look over his shoulder to see what was wrong. They stared too.

"Am I really seeing this?" Ron asked.

"I think so, I mean, we know the map is never wrong," Hermione said, shacking herself out of her shock.

"Why are Draco and Snapes dot's practically on top of each other?" Ginny asked, confused.

"It mean's," Harry said quietly, "That they are either snogging or in a compromising position." He smothered a grin; on the map, already in the ROR were Severus and Draco. Harry had feeling that Seamus, Dean, Padma and Lavender, who were already nearing the seventh floor corridor, were going to get the shock of their lives.

"Come on," Harry said, quickly checking and confirming that all of his friends were on their way toward the room. He put the map away and stepped through the portrait hole. His friends all shook them selves before following.

* * *

"So," Harry said as Bill, Charlie and the original Gryffindor chasers sat down. "Ask away."

"What happened?"

"What was it like?"

"Was it boring being in the hospital wing during Christmas?"

"Have you opened your gifts yet?"

"What did you do with the paint?"

"Whoa," Harry said, holding up his hands for silence as he tried to think of answers for every question. "Give me a chance to answer. Seamus, I was ill over the Christmas holidays and had to be isolated. Pansy, it was horrid. At first I as only throwing up and then I started to get delirious. I was so hot. I don't really remember much after that."

Harry had had years of lying. Answering Hermione and Ron's questions about where he had been when he was in the hospital wing, being topped up with meds. Lying last year about where he was going when he was either going of with Albus or talking to his spy's.

"I haven't had a chance to open my gifts yet, Padma," Harry said to the now lone twin. "I was planning to wait tell Saturday and invite you all over to Grimmuald place so I can open them with Sirius and Remus. And Ginny, I'll show you." He closed his eyes and thought of his room in the hospital wing and how he wanted to go there. He heard a gasp and opened his eyes. He was facing a door which he guessed lead to his hospital room. He stood and opened it. He grinned.

"Harry, what?" Ginny asked moving to peer over his shoulder. Harry turned in time to see her jaw drop and eyes go wide in shock. "Harry!" she gasped. Everyone else scrambled to see what she was so shocked about and Harry stepped out of the way.

"It's beautiful," Hermione murmured. She looked up and stared. "Oh, Harry," she whispered and then pointed it, and the scene depicted on the floor, out to the others.

"I never knew you could draw Harry," Dean said, sounding interested. Everyone jumped when Harry laughed.

"I can't," he told the black teen, "There my memory's, magically implanted onto the room through the paint." Everyone stared at him. He looked around and pouted. "Madam Pomfrey removed the sticking charm. I liked everything upside down."

He grinned wickedly but before he could lift his wand it was snatched out of his hand. "I don't think so," Severus's voice said from behind him. Harry turned to see him pocketing his wand. He glared but the potions master only smiled grimly. "It took Albus nearly an hour to remove your charm, Harry." The name still sounded weird when any of the Slytherin's said it, Harry mused, grinning cheekily.

"Don't grin like that, you look like your mother when she was about to do something stupid or wind up your father," Severus said. Harry liked listening to his professor talk about his mother but he did notice that he never used her name. Harry still felt sorry for the man but was glad that he had gotten over his death enough to love again. His hand clasped around Draco was evidence enough, as well as the slightly scared minds of Seamus and Dean. Harry had laughed himself into another attack when the two girls had told him it was kind of hot.

"What do you mean, 'Memory's magically implanted onto the room through the paint?" Draco asked, bringing him out of his musing.

"My magic's grown since that bastards soul was removed from my body," Harry explained. "It's grown slightly wild and if I want something, even if it's just a passing want, like say I wanted a quill to write something, one would suddenly appear in front of me. Madam P said that the soul piece must have been stunting my magical development in some way and now that it's gone my magic will grow till its finished and I'll have to learn control it."

"That doesn't explain what you meant," Draco said as they made their way back into the ROR. The door disappeared behind them as they reclaimed their seats.

"I wanted something to do; I was only thinking of splattering the room in paint when I collected it. But one of my fever dreams appeared on the wall the next day and I experimented a bit removing and imprinting them on the walls. Then I got really ill and my dreams were mostly about the bastard and the things he did to me through the years. I came out of it and the walls were like that. I experimented a bit and decided to keep the images as they were but to cheer up the room by putting some good memories on the ceiling and put scenes from the final battle on the floor."

This was half true, he'd actually splattered the walls with paint and then accidently touched his wand to the wall. The paint had changed into a picture and after that Harry had changed it until he was happy. He'd done the same to the floor and the roof, although getting the paint on the roof had been difficult.

"So in a way, you did accidental magic," Ginny laughed. He glared at her but she only smiled sweetly at him. "Well, when you think about it, it sounds like accidental magic," she pointed out logically, making the rest of the room laugh and Harry grumble.

"Whatever," he said, trying to sound dismissive and failing horribly by the way they sniggered. "Anyway, any more questions?"

"Me and Neville have one but its private," she said, both her and her boyfriend giving him a meaningful glance. Harry nodded and they both relaxed.

"I have one," Hermione said. Harry braced himself for the onslaught he would get about quitting Quiddich and was surprised. "Where have you been all day, you weren't in any classes and you weren't at lunch either?"

Harry sighed to himself. "I was in here, Hermione," he answered. "The professors said there was no point going back to class until Monday."

Several people opened their mouth's to complain but Ron shut them up. "Why have you quit Quiddich?" he demanded.

Harry rolled his eyes while inside he was begging they believed him. "I want to concentrate on my NEWTS, you have a guaranteed job when you leave, I don't. I need my NEWTS and anyway, it's best that you start training a seeker ready for next year." All true if you thought about it the right way.

"What do you mean you don't have a guaranteed job, Kingsley told me we would be partners?" Ron asked bemused.

"I turned him down, I don't want to be an Auror," Harry said, which was completely truthful. "I've had enough of fighting; I don't know what I want to do yet." Also true, if he wasn't going to die he wouldn't know what he was going to do once he graduated.

"But-"

"Ron, leave it, I can see where he's coming from," Lavender said. Ron grumbled but sat back down. Hermione glared slightly, remembering when she had dated Ron. Harry internally rolled his eyes. "Who do think would be good for your replacement?" Ginny asked.

"There's this second year, something Tobin. He's a Half-Blood whose dad played Seeker when he was here. I've seen him muck about with his mates, he's pretty good. Or there's Jamie Applestone, she was talking about trying out next year. I havn't seen her play but…"

"How do you know all these people?" Padma asked bemused.

"I don't," Harry laughed. "I've just seen them around and anyway, as captain it's my job to be on the lookout for Quiddich players. I was going to have Tobin on reserve after the match against Hufflepuff so he was ready for next year." Harry shrugged at their inquiring gazes. "Oh and Ginny, Dennis is a pretty good keeper, if you trained him up a bit he could be good for next year. I know you're planning to stay on and help Madam P, maybe you could help the team out in your spare time."

Ginny grinned, "Did you know that I had an offer last month from the Holyhead Harpies to join as a reserve chaser? I told them no though; I'd rather stay in one piece thanks." She ignored Ron mouthing at her in shock and stood stretching.

"I believe we should return to our common rooms, curfew is in 20 minutes," Severus said, standing and pulling Draco to his feet.

"Yeah," Harry said also standing. "Owl your parents for permission to leave the school either this weekend or next, I'm heading to the owlery to ask Sirius and Remus if we can use Grimmuald Place for a second Christmas day." Hermione nodded and she dragged the rest of the Gryffindor's off. Harry noticed Justin glance at Seamus before heading off to the Hufflepuff common room. He smirked to himself.

He was about to head off to the owlery when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He faced Luna and Neville and groaned at the look on their faces. "When are you going to tell everyone, Harry?" Neville asked.

"I don't know," he sighed. "I don't think I can."

"Then show them," Luna said dreamily. Harry gave her a puzzled look.

"She means let them figure it out," Neville explained. "Have Poppy send a house elf to tell you you've missed an appointment then let them find out for themselves. Anyway, what really happened? We know that it had something to do with It." Harry quickly explained what Poppy had told him.

"What Poppy doesn't seem to have realised is that when I go to the Hollow, I'll get worse fast because I'm away from the wards," Harry ended with. He checked his watch to fins that it was five minutes to curfew. "You two better hurry, you've five minutes." Then he ran off in the direction of the owlery.

He whistled when he arrived and conjured sum parchment, a quill and ink. He quickly wrote out his letter to his godfathers and tied it to Hedwig to deliver. Then he legged it back to the common room making it back five minutes after he should have been back. He didn't feel up to mucking about with the other Gryffindor's, besides he could see the twins where trying to get his attention. He told Ginny and Hermione he was off to bed and then headed up to the dorm. He pulled his robe off and collapsed on the bed, asleep only a minute later.

That was how his dorm mates found him and Neville took the initiative to magic his cloths to P-J's and then put his sheets over him. Harry didn't even stir.

* * *

_Hey Sirius, Remus._

_I was wondering, as I never got to celebrate Christmas with the rest of you if we could have like a second Christmas. I was thinking of inviting all my friends and we could all get permission to leave school either this weekend or next and have a repeat. Please? This way I get to open my presents with you too._

_Please say yes and invite the order. It'll be fun._

_Harry._

_Oh and guess who's got together. Draco and Sev, finally. Now if only everyone else would get on with it and ask out their significant other then I'll finally get some peace and quiet._

"So, what's he say," Sirius said impatiently. Him, Remus, Kingsley, Tonks and Amelia were sat around the living room, Kingsley and Tonks on the love seat, Amelia curled up in the armchair and Remus and Sirius were sat at opposite of the sofa. They had been discussing names for the baby when Hedwig had flown through the window.

Remus reread the letter, this time out loud.

"Oh, oh, I need to put the decorations back up and write out invites and let Molly know so that she can start cooking and…and…" Sirius bounced around the room as he talked nonstop about his plans for the weekend.

"And you need to reply to Harry telling him it's ok and which weekend he and his friends can come," a highly amused Amelia interrupted. Remus shook his head and pulled a bit of parchment towards him.

"I'll do it," he muttered, already writing.

Tonks and Kingsley stood, chuckling. "We should get going, thanks for dinner," Kingsley said. "We'll try and come but work takes priority at the moment."

"Yeah, yeah," Sirius said distractedly as he started unpacking the decorations that he had only just taken down that day.

"We hope you can but if you can't you will be missed," Remus said as he stood, letter in hand and smacked Sirius round the head as he moved past. "I'll show you out, Amelia, are staying to help or will you be staying in the spare room?"

"I think I'll get away from the insanity that Sirius is most probably about to succumb to," Amelia said, stretching and standing. Remus chuckled as he showed them out before whistling for Hedwig.

"Hello, pretty girl," he cooed when she landed on his shoulder. "I need you to take this to Harry, please, beautiful." Hedwig held out her leg and Remus attached the rolled up scroll to it. She gave him a small nip on the ear before she took off.

Remus smiled before heading back inside to, as Amelia would have said; deal with the insanity that is Sirius Black.

* * *

"Shall we try this again," Harry said as he walked into the kitchen where the females were all cooking and setting the table and the males were sat around the table talking about the latest Quiddich game. Harry froze in the doorway, his eyes fixed on the opposite wall. "Is that..?" he asked softly as he watched the poster of a young red haired girl and a boy who could have been his twin but for the brown eyes.

"Yeah, that's Lily and James. They were… acquaintances in their first year, when Sna-Severus was nothing to us. We became more…vindictive towards him when James started to like you mum and Severus used Dark based spells back at us," Sirius looked apologetic towards Severus only to jump slight when he saw Draco curled up into his side. "Since when were you gay?!" he blurted. Harry smacked him upside the head as he walked to sit next to Remus.

"If you must know, Black, I have always had an interest in both genders but since… Her, I haven't been interested in females," Snape replied.

"Sorry, it was none of my business," Sirius muttered before bouncing back to his excitable self. "So Harry," he asked, interrupting Harry and Remus's conversation on school. "How do you want to do this? We've already swapped presents, although we couldn't find yours."

"Well, I'm hungry, so eat first then I'll give each of you your presents and then you can give me mine, that okay?"

"That's fine Harry," Remus said next to him as Sirius bounced away to collect everyone's presents for Harry.

"Harry, Remus, duck!" a voice shouted and they didn't hesitate, ducking under the table only four bowls flew through the air where their heads had been a few seconds ago and landed in front of them.

"What the hell?!" Theo yelled from where he was talking to Blaise and Lavender as he got splashed with soup. "Fred! George!" Harry ignored the two men who came up behind him and began apologising to the three of them. He turned his body away from George's hand as he tried to rube some of the soup off his shoulder.

"I'm going to change my shirt and give Sirius my presents," he said as he pushed his chair back and walked from the room, not seeing the puzzled and crestfallen face of the twins.

He practically ran up the stairs and slammed his bedroom door closed. He sighed in frustration then pulled off his shirt and pulled another one on. He rummaged in his trunk for a few minutes until he pulled out a wooden box.

He found Sirius in the living room piling presents under the tree. "Hey, Sirius," he said, with a slightly gloomy tone. "Here's my presents. It's an expanded space and the opening will size to fit the present." He handed it and turned to go.

"What's the matter, pup?" Sirius asked.

"It's nothing," Harry said as he began to leave the room but Sirius words stopped him cold.

"It's not nothing. Is it the twins? Remus said you acted strange earlier when they were around, like you were pretending they weren't there."

"I-I don't know…" but he trailed off as he turned to see the sympathic look on Sirius's face. "Yes," he admitted miserably.

"Talk to me pup, maybe I can help you."

"I'll tell you later, I don't want to be miserable today," Harry said. He caught up with everyone over dinner, ignoring the twin's every time they tried to get his attention. Finally, all the plates were clean, all the left overs stored for the next day and everyone was gathered in the living room. "I'll hand out each present separately so that everyone can see what it is and the person's reaction," Harry said to nods of approval.

"Yours are at the front," Sirius said, indicating the tree.

Harry nodded and bent down to pick up the first present. "Terry's," Harry handed it to him and he ripped into it. Harry laughed at his face when he saw the bracelet.

"Why have you given me a bracelet?" Terry squeaked.

"It was originally given to a consort of the Potter family, it allows access to the Potter library," Harry grinned.

"What?"

"I'm giving you unlimited access to the Potter library," Harry said slowly.

"You're... but that's…thank you," Terry stuttered while the rest of the room smiled and laughed.

"Next is… Alicia," he handed the small, wrapped box to her and watched as she unwrapped it and opened the box.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered, blinking back tears. "It's beautiful." She pulled the necklace out and handed it to Angelina, who was sat next to her, to put on. The Pucey crest shone from her chest as she stood and hugged Harry. "Thank you. How did you get it, Adrian told me that it went missing centuries ago?"

"I had to go down to my main vault a few months ago and I found this, along with some other stuff. I thought you would like it," Harry shrugged and pulled out the next gift. "Draco's," he said with a grin. "Another thing I found in my vaults."

"It better not be jewellery," Draco grumbled as he unwrapped the heavy book. "A book?"

"Look at the cover," Harry prompted and Draco turned it over to read the front. _A written journal of the Malfoy's, added to by each generation since 1635._ Underneath was the Malfoy crest and then the author, Lucifer Malfoy.

"Oh, wow, Harry," Draco gasped. "Thank you," he said and hugged him.

"Just make sure that you share it with you dad when he gets out," Harry said as read the next label. "Comfreys," he said, handing it to the medi-witch.

She opened the present only to find and envelope. She opened that and read the piece of paper inside. "A pre-paid ticket to New York for next Christmas and a booking receipt for witch's and sorceress's hotel and spa," she smiled at Harry. "Thank you."

"Hey Ron, catch," Harry threw a small orange envelope at the red head.

He ripped it open and shrieked, "Oh Merlin, Harry, I love you mate," he said. "It's and invite for the Gryffindor team to go and practice with the cannons and then play a game," he told everyone excitedly. "Thank you, thank you," he chanted as he hugged the piece of paper.

"Kingsley," Harry said handing it to the head Auror and acting Minister. "Hold on, let me find Dora's, they go together," he rummaged around in the pile for a few minutes muttering about how he should have stuck them together before pulling out a rectangular parcel wrapped in green. "Ha, found it, here you go."

"A key?"/"A rattle?" the both asked as they opened the parcels.

"The key's a portkey that will take you to you knew cottage, with the nursery already decorated and the rattle is a clue," Harry grinned at their flummoxed expressions.

Kingsley recovered first, "Where is the cottage?"

"In between the Burrow and the Rook," he winked at Luna.

"I still don't understand," Tonks said.

"Cousin, what's the tradition in pureblood circles for the gender of the baby?" Draco drawled.

"You give the parents a bracelet for a girl and a rattle for a boy," Tonks said, confused. Then understanding lit up her face. "How do you know it will be a boy?" she demanded.

"I have my secret's, not even our dear headmaster knows," Harry grinned even more. "You see that blank bit of silver where the rest is carved?" he asked. "That's to put the baby's name," he explained when she nodded.

"We haven't decided yet," she whispered. "But I want my dad's name in their somewhere."

Harry closed his eyes and cocked his head to the side, as if listening to something, "Teddy Marcus Shacklebolt," he suggested.

Tonks made an hmm noise as she considered it, "Maybe."

"Anyway, who's next," Ginny said impatiently.

Harry laughed as he pulled out the next present from under the tree, "Penny," he said with a slightly evil grin.

"Oh dear," she murmured as she pealed the paper from the strangely shaped present. "Wha?" she asked. "Why have you given me a pregnancy test and baby care books?" she asked.

"Because," he said in a sing song voice.

"Harry, are insinuating that I'm going to be a father," Percy asked in shock.

"Not insinuating nothing," Harry said in an uncanny impression of Peeves.

"Harry," Poppy sighed. "I knew you were hanging out with Peeves too much," she said shaking her head.

"Poppy, they weren't meant to know that," he whined.

"Mrs Clearwater, I'd just humour him," McGonagall advised.

Pouting, Harry reached for the next present. He cheered up when he read the name, "Angelina," he chirped.

"A wedding planner," she laughed, Oliver had proposed on Christmas morning.

"How did you know, I didn't tell anyone," Oliver squeaked. Harry only smirked. "You know what, I don't want to know," he decided.

"Severus next," Harry said, handing the heavy box over. He watched in glee as the potions master pulled out the first of the books.

"This… this was written by… how did you…Rowena Ravenclaw's potions journal," he stuttered.

"Not only Rowena's," Harry bounced with excitement as Severus pulled the other three books out.

"Helga Hufflepuff," he read, getting paler and paler in excitement, "Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor. How?"

"Helena told me how to get into the Founders potions labs, said that I might find a use for the potions in there. I saw these book's and knew that you would die for them," he pouted again, "She wouldn't tell me where their chambers were though," he sulked. Everyone chuckled at his childlike attitude.

"Anyway, who's next," he dived back into the pile, "Blaise. Be careful with it, it's quite old from what I could tell."

Blaise gingerly unwrapped the present and gasped. A beautiful silver jewellery box shined in the light. The Zabini crest was engraved in gold, along with the family motto. Blaise opened it and pulled out a small ring, set with a ruby. "These are…"

"Your great grandmothers," Harry said softly. "My grandfather won them in a duel from your grandfather. I thought that you would want them." He turned away, picking up the next present. He didn't even look at the name tag, just handed it to Seamus.

"Well, it's a broom, that much I can tell," Seamus commented, looking at the shape. "There's something else in there with it but it's a broom." He ripped into the paper and laughed. "A knew chess set and a firebolt."

"Not just any firebolt, look at the handle," Ginny said as she spotted the writing. Seamus looked at the same time as Ginny said, "It belonged to Aiden Lynch!"

"Blimey, how did you get that?" Dean asked.

"Lynch got the new Sparrow Hawk broom, put the firebolt up for bids," Harry shrugged as he picked up the next present. "I entered for a dare and won with a measly 3000 galleons and decided to give it to Seamus who I know is never going to ride it and instead put it in a glass case." Seamus nodded. "Anyway, this is for Susan."

"Thank you Harry," she murmured when she saw the beautiful engraved picture frame with a photo of her family inside.

"Ginny's," Harry said. "You can't give it back I'm afraid but I did have permission from Bill to do this," Bill grumbled but nodded.

"A vault key? The bracelet I get and love but why a vault key," Ginny asked.

"By pureblood laws when a female marries she has a dowry, this is yours," he grinned before throwing the next present, an envelope, at Oliver.

"No," he said firmly when he looked inside. "You are not paying for the honeymoon, I refuse-"

"Oliver, shut up and except it," Harry snapped, moving to hand a purple wrapped present to Pansy. Oliver look to shocked to argue, actually everyone did.

Pansy snapped out of it when she looked at the beautifully designed vase. It was a mix of pink's, purple's, blues and greens with hints of yellow and red. You could just make out engravings of runes along the rim and bottom with another running around the middle inside.

"Unbreakable," Hermione said from where she sat next to Pansy reading the runes. "Clean, fresh, everlasting, there's a lot of work gone into this."

"I did the runes and there from hours of practising with the vase maker, I had the vase custom made. If there was such thing as an aura I think this is what yours would look like. Pink and purple because your true to yourself and the female you are, blue and green for your intelligence and cunning with hints of yellow and red for your bravery and loyalty," Harry said, slightly red in the face.

"It's lovely, thank you Harry, I will treasure this," Pansy said.

"I hope so," Harry murmured sadly before brightening as he looked at the name on the next present. He hopped over to Dumbledore and handed it to him. Everyone laughed as they saw the socks.

"Thank you Harry," Dumbledore chuckled. "But I have a feeling these are more than just socks."

"Your right," Harry said. "These socks have fifty different designs programed in them and are charmed to clean themselves every day. They also act as a portkey to St Mungo's with the activation word being Dobby." Everyone laughed again as Dumbledore immediately swapped his socks to the new ones.

"Charlie's," Harry grinned. They all looked slightly apprehensive at the box as it had breathing holes, indicating that it was alive. "I think you will like this, considering I heard you moaning to Luke about missing the dragons." He heard a gasp from Hermione.

"Harry, you didn't get him a-"

"Open it," Harry encouraged, ignoring his best friend.

Charlie tentatively raised the lid a gasped. "Harry, I can't, it's against the law-"

"You lot have no faith in me," Harry grumbled. "It's not actually a dragon," he explained. "Do you remember those miniatures that were given out in the second task, well, I kept it. I enlarged it and had it checked over, it should survive for another ten years. I thought you could have it, I didn't really want nor need it anymore."

"Wow," Charlie breather as he lifted it out with both hands. It looked at him and breathed fire straight into his face. Everyone gasped and Luke went to put the flame out only for Charlie to laugh. "It's safety fire," he said as the dragon gave up roasting him and curled up in his lap.

"He doesn't do much more than that, he eats, sleeps, breaths fire and that's about it," Harry said.

"Thank you Harry," Charlie said happily.

"Next is Hermione," Harry handed a small velvet box to her.

"It's lovely, Harry," Hermione said as she studied the simple necklace. It was shaped like three hearts with different gems, each of the trio's birthstones, all connected in the centre. What Hermione didn't know was that it had a small compulsion charm so that after a certain time revising she would want a break.

"It's meant to symbolise us," he muttered blushing.

"Then it's perfect," she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm gay, Ron, remember," he said as Ron glared at him. He moved back to the tree and pulled out a yellow present. "Hmm, Justin," he handed it to the boy.

He felt it for a few seconds, "Fells like fabric," Justin said as he ripped into it. "Quiddich robes? Wait, these are…"

"Montrose Magpies Quiddich robes, signed, I might add," Harry said smugly.

"How did you get it?" Theo asked, interested.

"As much as it pains me, Cho Chang became the third set Seeker," he grimaced.

"You didn't?" laughed Ginny.

"I did," he grumbled. "You should be very thankful for that," he pointed to the robes that Justin was now holding against his body.

"What was the price?" Ron grinned. Harry mumbled something, "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that."

"I said she asked me to take her on another date," Harry grumbled.

"Dear god, you went through that for me. You must really like me," Justin said as he folded the robes and placed them at his feet. "So, go on then, how bad was it?"

"Don't know, haven't been on it yet. I told her she would have to wait until the summer holidays as I was too busy with exams," he grinned.

"Harry, you can't make promises that you won't keep," Hermione admonished. Harry only rolled his eyes and handed the next present to Percy.

It was a photo album filled with photos of his parents growing up and at Hogwarts. Percy flicked through them idly. "Thank you, Harry, but why give them to me, I was horrid to them, I don't deserve this," Percy said, nearly crying.

"And that's why I gave it to you, you regret what happened and that you never got to say goodbye," Harry said softly. "You regret leaving your family for you career and that shows me that you care. That shows me that you miss them the most, that's why I gave that to you." Percy nodded, crying softly and hugging the album to his chest. Charlie and Bill stood, pulling their brother into a hug.

"Uh-hm," Harry said, gathering everyone's attention. "I think we should take a break, I seem to have forgotten a few presents. Could someone help me?"

"I need to return to Hogwarts to check and see if Miss Jenkins had any problems and to check on a patent, I will help you," Poppy said, standing. Harry nodded and followed her through the floo. Poppy quickly checked Harry over and gave him his daily potions before following Harry to the Gryffindor dorms to help him carry the few presents he forgot to pack. All in all, they were gone an hour.

"What took so long?" Sirius asked. "It's nearly six o'clock, you've been gone an hour."

"Poppy had to look after a patent," Harry shrugged as he put the three presents he had forgotten under the tree. "I guess your impatient, so I'll get straight to it and give you yours Sirius." He handed the two parcels to Sirius.

"How come he gets two presents?" Ginny grumbled but shut up when she saw the evil smirk on Harry's face.

"Hey!" Sirius shout when he ripped into the first one and about five dog toys fell to the ground. "I barley turn into a dog anymore," he grouched, opening the other one, only to turn bright red and shove it back in the wrapping.

"What was it?" Remus asked, trying to see.

"Nothing," he squeaked, pulling it away and glaring at Harry who only smirked harder.

"Next is… George, let me find Fred's so I can give them together," Harry said, his smirk falling. He knelt down and rummaged under the tree until he threw two parcels at the red heads.

George went first, opening his blue present to find a box with a vault key, "Huh?"

"I'm upping my investment," Harry said shortly from where he was still digging around under the tree and making a small pile behind him. The rest of the room exchanged looks, confused as to why Harry was so mad at the twins. "I found Fred's in my vault, I guess it was a backup." Harry pulled the last of his presents out from under the tree just as Fred pulled an invisibility cloak from its wrapping's. It wasn't the plain boring cloak it appeared to be, however, underneath a glamour that only those who knew he was dying could see, was the family heirloom, Harry's cloak. There was a shocked gasp from everyone, those who couldn't see beneath the glamour at him having given them an invisibility cloak and those that could that he was giving away the only thing of his father he had left. "Anyway, the next present is for Neville," he said, not even giving the twins time to comment on their presents.

"An amulet?" Neville asked.

Harry cleared his throat. "I found two of these in a glass case in my vault. The label said that the wearer could use them to talk to those rendered comatose," there was a gasp. "There is a catch, however. They can only be used seven times each. According to one of my ancestor's diaries, seven were made," he shivered slightly at the reminder of the Horcruxses, "To last for seven attempts. It doesn't say why or where the other five went, that's all I know. But I do know that I would give anything to talk to my parents again and that you would to."

"Thank you, Harry," Neville murmured as Luna curled up practically in his lap. Everyone else had a few tears in their eyes.

"Anyway, the next present is far happier," Harry said. "It's Luna's and I just know it's going to piss Hermione off," he said, handing a box with breathing holes. "I spent ages asking around for this," he grinned.

"Ohh," Luna said as she opened the book. "A Crumple-Horned Snorkack," she said, pulling it out. It looked like a miniature lion with a horn on its head and wings on its back.

"But-that's-it shouldn't-impossible," Hermione stuttered while the rest of the room laughed slightly.

"Aren't you cute, yes you are, I'm going to call you sandy cause that's what colour you are," Luna cooed at the little animal. It yawned in her face and curled up in her lap, imitating the dragon Charlie had received earlier. Everyone chuckled at Luna's cooing, even as Harry reached down into the pile at his feet.

He sighed, "Why am I picking the sad ones." He handed it to a worried looking Theo.

"A visitation right to see my father over the summer holidays," he croaked as he read it. "And a wand holster?"

"You said you needed a new one," Harry said. "I know there both a bit impersonal but you didn't really drop any hints so… I got you those. The wand hoster can shield against everything bar the unforgivables."

"It's alright, everyone says I'm hard to shop for," Theo reassured him.

"The next presents for Professor Flitwick," Ginny said, making them all jump.

"Hey, that's my job," Harry said, shooing her away from the pile. She handed him the present in her hand and pretended to sulk to her seat in front of Hermione. "Here you are sir," Flitwick took the parcel and banished the light blue paper.

"Shoe's?" he asked.

"I charmed them so that they float up to a metre off the ground and they will resize to fit your feet as I wasn't sure of you size," Harry explained.

"Brilliant, let's see if they work," the charms professor squeaked excitedly. He slipped on the shoes and went to step onto the floor only to float above it. "Oh well done, the charms work perfectly." He tried to sit back down but found that he couldn't float low enough to do so. "I think these will take practice," he squeaked as a laughing Bill helped him take the shoes off.

"Sorry, I should correct that," Harry said, moving to take his wand from behind his ear.

"Nonsense, I just to practise," Flitwick waved him away.

"If you say so," Harry muttered, picking up the next present, a gold one. "Denis."

"You got me a present," Denis squeaked.

"It's really for both you and Colin," Harry said as he watch Denis rip into it. He gasped when he saw the photo and inscription on the front of a photo album. _To Colin's life and the hope that even in death he has a camera!_ The photo was of a four year old Colin taking a picture of one year old Denis with their dads help. "It's all the photos I could find of you and Colin and most of the picture he took at Hogwarts," Harry explained as he watched the youngest Creevey flick through the book, tears in his eyes.

"Most?" he asked, looking up.

"Some of the pictures he took were indecent," Harry grumbled.

"Like what?" Ginny asked, grinning evilly.

Harry cleared his throat and ignored her, "The next one's for Luke," he handed the eighteen year old the purple parcel.

"Oh wow," Luke exclaimed when he saw the charms book. "You shouldn't have Harry; I mean this was written by Lucia Potter, it must have cost a fortune." Harry raised an eyebrow at him, "Oh, you got it from your vault."

"Yep, but I found the original, I had to pay a bit to get it reprinted," Harry said, smiling at his infusiasum. "Anyway, next is Deans. And you can't say no," he said, slightly smug.

Dean nervously opened the red envelope. Inside was a bank vault key and a contract with a small bottle cap taped to it. He sent Harry a questioning look.

"It's my investment," he explained. "Inside the vault is the same amount I gave the twins to get started in their joke shop and the contract is the deeds to a small house with a studio for you to do your paintings."

"Core, thanks mate," Dean said. "I suppose this is the portkey to get to get to the house."

Harry nodded and went pick up the next present in the now very small pile. "Padma," he handed a blue envelope to her and picked up a gold one and gave it to Lavender. "They go together, kinda."

"Internship with healer James," Padma squealed, jumping up and hugging Harry.

"Oh my merlin," Lavender squealed, "An internship with Madam Malkin, thank you." She mimicked Padma and hugged Harry.

"Now the conditions are that you have to both get exceeds expectations in you subjects and at least one outstanding," Harry said sternly. "Otherwise neither will take you, okay?"

"Easy,"

"I'll do it,"

"Good," Harry said. He handed the next present to Bill.

"A knife," Bill murmured. "A special knife, that can cut through anything and can unlock any door," he said reading the runes. "This must have been expensive," he commented. Harry only shrugged, staring sadly at the knife. Under the glamour that only he could see through was the Christmas gift from Sirius in his fourth year. He had hesitated to give it away but new Bill would put it to good use at work. "Thanks Harry."

Harry shrugged and handed the next present to Remus, a small wooden box. "You need to cancel the shrinking spell," he said. Remus did and jumped when it enlarged.

"A trunk," Remus stated.

"A trunk with two rooms," Harry said. "One's for when you turn into a wolf, it's got real plants and a few rabbits that you can hunt. It's sound proofed and completely safe."

"Brilliant," Remus breathed. "And the second room."

"Well, that's really for both you and Sirius, go on, take a look," Harry said. Remus thought about for a few seconds before exchanging a look with Sirius. He nodded and they both opened the trunk and stepped in.

"The second room is full of pictures of both my parents growing up, them at school and all the pictures of me I could find. I call it the Marauders Memory room," Harry explained softly, listening to the exclamations from inside the trunk. The two men spent ten minutes in there before both resurfaced, puffy eyes.

"Thank you, Harry," they both murmured. He hugged them both before they sat down.

"Now, then, who's next," Harry murmured. "Madam McGonagall."

"Harry," she murmured when she saw the tartan kilt with her family crest. She laughed when she found the catnip he had wrapped inside.

"Lee's next, another investment on my behalf," Harry said handing a brown envelope over. "It's a vault filled with 5000 galleons or the key to it," Harry told him.

"Harry, you shouldn't-"

"Shut up, I said it was an investment, it so you can start that radio station," Harry said, waking him lightly over the head.

"Oh, ok, thanks," Lee muttered, rubbing the back of his head where Harry had hit him.

"Opps," Harry said, reading the label of the next presents. "Kingsley, I need a favour. These are for Lucius, he was complaining he was bored and so I got him some children's books, muggle and magical, to keep himself entertained. Can you make sure he gets these, please?"

Draco was laughing slightly as Kingsley spoke, "They'll have to go through all the checks but yes, I can get them to him."

"Thanks, this present is for Hannah," he shifted nervously, sharing a glance with Amelia. "This is really from both me and Amelia but I had to pull some strings to get it done," he said nervously.

"Adoption papers," Hannah breathed. "Who?"

"Me," Amelia said softly. "I know that you hate it at your aunt's, that she doesn't understand what you are. You spend almost all of your time with me and Susan. You might as well be part of the family."

"I-Why is it Harry's present and not yours," Hannah asked.

"Because they wouldn't grant it to Amelia," Harry said angrily. "They said that you were with blood family and that you would be fine, just as they were with my family and any other Muggleborn witch or wizard, not worthy of their time. I found out through… well, that doesn't matter but I found out and made it look like I was going to adopt you into the Potter family, make my parents your parents. They gave me a blank form and filled in all but your name and Amelia's."

"How did you persuade the old bat?" Susan asked curiously.

"I didn't," he said slyly. "Remus went to her acting as if he was one of the teachers at the school and that he had to file a change of information in case anything should happen. She fell hock, line and sinker."

"I still can't believe you talk me into that, although I do agree with what I did," Remus shook his head.

"Thank you," Hannah said, still clutching the papers. "Can I have some time to think about this?" Both Amelia and Harry nodded.

"After that drama, I have two presents left to give, Katy's and Amelia's herself," he said, handing a silver envelope to Katy and a strange shapes parcel to Amelia.

"You open yours first, Katy," Amelia said.

"You can't say no," Harry reminded her as she open the envelope and tipped a small stack of folded papers onto the desk. She quickly read the first one over.

"The deeds to a flat in London," Katy exclaimed. She saw Harry's determined look and caved. "Fine, thank you. I will pay you back though." Harry only smiled and turned to Amelia.

"You need to enlarge them later, when you want to fit them," he told her. She unwrapped the strange shape and looked puzzled at the wooden frames.

"Door frames?"

"I had them made," Harry explained. "When enlarged and fitted they have wards. Anyone who steps through with bad intentions, no matter if it's directed at you or in general, it will trigger a small alarm that that makes it light up. Only you and anyone else you program into it can see the light. Flashes grey the intentions are general, flashes black they are directed at you. There's one for your office and one for you front door." Amelia nodded and thanked him.

Harry noticed that a few of his friends were starting to drop off to sleep and checked the clock to find that it was nearly half ten. "I think we should head to bed. I'll open my presents tomorrow." Everyone agreed and Harry quickly made his way to the bedroom he would be sharing with Ron and, to his dismay when Remus had told him, the twins. He didn't stop to change his cloths only threw them off then settled under the sheets. He waited for perhaps fifteen minutes before the door opened and he heard two sets of footsteps entre. Harry evened his breathing, even as his chest tightened.

He heard a sigh. "He's already asleep," Fred sounded disappointed.

"We'll talk to him tomorrow; find out why he's been avoiding us. I thought it was the perfect chance, with Ron choosing to join the boys sleep over in the living room. Never mind." They went about getting ready for bed and Harry heard them settle into the same bed.

They fell asleep not long after but Harry was awake for a long while, crying into his pillow. He eventually fell asleep, eyes red and puffy, and dreamed of when life was simpler and what could have been.

* * *

**A/N: Wow, that took longer than expected. It was the longest chapter I have ever written; even my own creation isn't this long. Oh well, can't help where the muse take me and how long it will be. Had to split this into two otherwise it was ridiculous. Anyway, thank you for being patent, I know I updated CTF days ago but this took a little longer to finish.**

**Forgiving.**


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